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THE "SUB" 



44 



CRUMPS" 

The Plain Story of a Canadian 
who went 



By LOUIS KEENE 

Canadian Expeditionary Force 

WITH A PREFATORY NOTE BY 
GENERAL LEONARD WOOD 

Illustrated by the Author 




Boston and New York 
Houghton Mifflin Company 

1917 



.K3 



COPYRIGHT, 1917, BY LOUIS KEENK 
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 

Published November IQ17 



-71917 

©CI.A477450 



Prefatory Note 

Headquarters Southeastern Department 
Charleston, S.C. 

nth August, 191 7 
Captain Keene has made an interesting 
contribution to the Uterature of the present war 
in his account of service, which covers the ex- 
perience of a young officer in the making and on 
the battle front, — the transformation of an 
artist into a first-class machine-gun officer. He 
covers the training period at home and abroad 
and the work at the front. This direct and in- 
teresting account should serve to bring home to 
all of us an appreciation of how much has to be 
done before troops can be made effective for 
modern war, the cost of unpreparedness, and 
the disadvantage under which troops, partially 
equipped, labor when they meet highly organ- 
ized ones, prepared, even to the last detail, for 
all the exigencies of modern war. It also brings 



Prefatory Note 



out the splendid spirit of Canada, the Mother 
Country, and the distant Colonies, — the spirit 
of the Empire, united and determined in a just 
cause. 

This and similar accounts should serve to 
make clear to us the wisdom of the admonition 
of Washington and many others: "In time of 
peace prepare for war." 

Many young Americans are about to undergo 
experiences similar to those of Captain Keene, 
and a perusal of this modest and straight-for- 
ward narrative will help in the great work of 
getting ready. 

Leonard Wood, 
Maj.-Gen, U.S,J. 




Illustrations 



THE "SUB" Frontispiece 

THE CANADIAN, JOHNNIE CANUCK, THE 
AMERICAN, AND THE ANZAC .... 6 

THE TRANSPORT FLEET lo 

AT DEVONPORT 26 

THE LORRY 72 

BRINGING UP A MOTOR MACHINE GUN . . 90 

"WIPERS" 94 

WHAT'S THE USE? 106 

A FRENCH SOLDIER 118 

"WHIZ-BANGS" 124 

THE "CRUMP" 128 

MR. TOMMY ATKINS i44 

vii 



"CRUMPS" 

The Plain Story of a Canadian 
who went 

THE Laurentian Mountains in the 
Province of Quebec are noted for 
their beauty, fine hunting and fish- 
ing, and are the stamping-grounds for many 
artists from the States and Eastern Canada. 
It was in this capacity that I was working 
during the hot summer of 19 14. All through 
June and July I sketched with my father. 
Other than black flies my only worry was 
the price of my tubes of color. 

We usually received our newspapers two 
or three days after publication; consequently 
we were poorly posted on worldly happen- 
ings. Suddenly the war clouds gathered and 
almost before we knew it they became so 
threatening that we grew restless, and even 
went in to the depot to get our papers so 
that we could have the news sooner. 



Crumps 

The assassination of the Austrian Crown 
Prince and the subsequent events were ex- 
citing, but it was only when Russia sent 
that one word "Mobilize" to Serbia that 
we suspected serious results. Even the 
summer visitors from the States exhibited 
signs of excitement, yet they were skeptical 
of the chances of war; that is, war that would 
really affect us ! My newspaper in Montreal 
wired for me to come down to do war car- 
toons and I left my father and hiked to the 
depot. 

The Montreal train was crowded and con- 
versation centered on the one topic. War; 
the English Navy's ability to maintain her 
rule of the seas, and what would Canada do. 
A young Austrian reservist two seats away 
was telling some people in a loud voice how 
much he wanted to get into it. He was going 
back to answer the call. And I had already 
begun to hear my country's call. 

A newsboy boarding the train at a junction 
was overwhelmed and succeeded in getting 
twenty-five cents a copy for his papers. 

2 



Crumps 

Montreal teemed with suppressed anxiety 
and every hour fresh news was posted. 
Special bulletin boards were put up on store 
fronts. Already men in uniform were seen 
in the street. And men were trying to enlist. 

The war fever was rising steadily; the 
chief occupation of Canadians in those days 
was watching the bulletin boards. Rumors 
of sea fights, ultimatums, disasters, and 
victories were common. The Kaiser seemed 
to declare war on the world at the rate of 
three countries a day. 

On the night of August 4th, as I was 
putting the finishing touches on a cartoon, 
a friend burst into the room: — "Come out 
of here! Something must happen any 
minute now." We marched downtown, — 
everybody marched in those days; walking 
was abolished in its favor. One met demon- 
strations everywhere, large crowds of cheer- 
ing men with flags, victrolas at shop windows 
played patriotic airs, and soldiers with civ- 
ilians crowded before the bulletin boards 
singing the national anthems with great 

3 



Crumps 

enthusiasm. The King had declared war 
and his message to the fleet had just been 
put up ! Newspaper extras were given away 
by thousands and movies of the British 
Navy were shown on the street. Any one 
who thought the British could not enthuse, 
changed his mind then. 

The audiences at the theatres and moving 
picture houses on receipt of the news rose 
simultaneously and sang the national an- 
thems, then cheered themselves hoarse. 
These were the first days of the war. Sev- 
eral battalions of militia were called out and 
posted to protect the bridges and grain 
elevators. Battalions were raised over- 
night, and so many recruits came forward 
that men were refused by the score. Eng- 
land was immediately offered ten battal- 
ions. Then an army division was possible. 
The Militia Department suddenly became 
a hive of industry. Men with all kinds of 
business capacity tendered their services 
gratis, and the Canadian war machine, 
without the experience of previous cam- 

4 



Crumps 

paigns, took shape. They worked night and 
day bringing everlasting credit on themselves. 
Banks offered full pay to their employees in 
uniform, and this example was widely fol- 
lowed. The principle prompting this action 
being, "It's our country; if we can't fight 
ourselves, we will help others to fight for 
her." 

Existent camp sites were inadequate, hence 
new ones were necessary. We had a few, 
but none were big enough. We bought 
Valcartier, one of the best sites in the world, 
which was equipped almost over-night with 
water service, electric light and drainage. 
The longest rifle range in the world with 
three and one-half miles of butts was con- 
structed. Railroad sidings were put in and 
35,000 troops from all over the Dominion 
poured into it. Think of it, — Canada with 
her population of seven and one-half millions 
offering 35,000 volunteers the first few weeks, 
without calling out her militia. And even 
to-day the militia are yet to be called. 
Thus every Canadian who has served at 

5 



Crumps 

the front has been a volunteer. England 
accepted an army division. [Fifteen hun- 
dred qualified ofiicers were told that they 
would have to stay and train men for the 
next contingent. But this was not fighting. 
They were dissatisfied. They resigned their 
commissions and went as privates. Uni- 
forms, boots, rifles and equipment were 
found for everybody. Every man was 
trained as much as possible in the time 
allowed, and within six weeks of the decla- 
ration of war, guns, horses and 3S,ooo men 
were going forward to avenge Belgium. 

With me the question of signing up was 
a big one. In the first place, I wanted to 
go; I wanted to go quickly. Several other 
fellows and myself had decided upon a 
certain battalion. But much to our dis- 
gust and regret we were informed that 
enlistments had stopped only a short time 
before. 

Then came the announcement of the 
organization of the First Auto Machine Gun 
Brigade, the generous gift of several of 

6 




THE CANADIAN 



JOHNNIE CANUCK 




THE AMERICAN 



THE ANZAC 



Crumps 

Canada's most prominent citizens, and it 
was In this unit that I enlisted with my 
friend Pat, a six-foot, husky Scotchman, 
with the fighting blood of the kilties very 
near the surface. We were Immediately 
transported to Ottawa In company with 
fifty other picked men from Montreal. At 
Ottawa the complement of our battery was 
completed upon the arrival of one hundred 
more men from Ottawa and Toronto. Here 
we trained until It came time for us to move 
to Montreal, and there the battery was em- 
barked on board the Corinthian with a unit 
of hea\y artillery. We sailed down to Quebec 
where we joined the other ships assembled 
to take over the First Canadian Contingent. 

Corinthian, Wednesday, Sept. 30th, igi4. 

My dear Mother and Father: — 

We are now steaming down the St. Law- 
rence. No one knows where we are going. 

Our fleet is a wonderful sight. All the 
ships are painted war gray — sides, boats 
and funnels. We are expecting to pick up 

7 



Crumps 

the warships which are to convoy us across 
at Father Point, somewhere near where the 
Empress of Ireland was sunk. 

Quebec looked very fine. The big guns 
were being hoisted into boats, horses em- 
barking, and battalion after battalion arriv- 
ing and going aboard. Those who came from 
Valcartier have had a rough time. They 
actually look as if they had come through a 
campaign. It gave me thrills all day to see 
these fine men come through the dock-gates 
with a steady swing. It is a magnificent 
contribution to any army. It's good to 
think of all these men coming at their coun- 
try's call. 

Some day, if I get back, I want to paint a 
picture of the fleet assembled at Quebec. 
The grays and greens looked really beau- 
tiful. Quebec, the city of history and the 
scene of many big battles, views with dis- 
dain the Canadian patriotism in the present 
crisis, and we had no send-ofi", no flags and no 
bands. 

This letter will not be mailed for ten days, 
8 



Crumps 

until we are well on the way over. We are 
crowded, and if we are going through the 
tropics we shall have a bad time; it is cold 
now, so we don't notice the congestion. 

We had one hundred and forty horses 
aboard and two batteries of heavy artillery, 
besides our own armored cars. All the trans- 
ports are crowded. We were passed by about 
ten of the other boats, and as they did so we 
cheered each other. The thin lines of khaki 
on all the ships will make a name for them- 
selves. I 'm proud I am one of them. 

We 've had a big dose of vaccine pumped 
into our arms to-day. This will be the last 
letter I send before I arrive, wherever we are 
going. 

The Corinthian sailed from Quebec to 
Father Point, where a patrol boat arrived 
with orders. We then sailed into the Gulf, 
but toward evening we turned into the coast. 
When we passed Fame Point Light a small 
boat, which afterwards turned out to be 
another patrol boat, sailing without lights, 

9 



Crumps 

flashed further orders to us. The Corinthian 
immediately turned round and headed back. 
The minute the patrol boat's signal light went 
out we were unable to distinguish it from the 
sea. The coloring is a good protection; even 
a boat, close to, sailing without lights, it is 
impossible to pick out. Apparently our 
orders were to cruise around until daylight 
and then sail for the Bay of Gaspe, and this 
morning at daybreak we sailed into that 
beautiful, natural harbor, which is big enough 
to accommodate the entire British fleet. 

I expect that to the villagers living around 
this harbor all events will date from to-day 
— to-day, when the wonderful sight of 
twenty-five ocean liners drawn up in battle- 
ship formation in this quiet place, deserted 
except for an occasional visit from a river 
steamer or fishing craft, greeted their gaze. 

Five gray fighting ships are mounting 
guard, and by their signals and pinnaces 
chasing backward and forward between the 
troopers are bossing the show. A corporal, 

10 




THE TRANSPORT FLEET 



Crumps 



a South African War veteran, as we looked 

at them, quoted Kipling's 

"The liner she's a lady 
With the paint upon 'er face, 
The man o' war's 'er 'usband 
And keeps 'er in 'er place." 

Towards noon a smart launch came along- 
side. Even at a distance the boys were quick 
to recognize our popular minister of militia, 
Sam Hughes, and a thundering cheer rang 
out. With him were several soldiers who 
threw bundles of papers aboard. These were 
printed copies of his farewell to the troops. 
His launch sailed by the ship, and then on to 
the next and so on, through the fleet. 

Our orders forbade the display of lights 
or even striking of matches after 6 p.m.; 
consequently all lights were masked to-night 
on the vessels, except those on the Royal 
Edward. The minute her lights were put out 
the Bay resumed its normal condition, not 
even the outlines of the vessels being visible. 

A press photographer on a launch has been 
taking pictures all the afternoon. Sailed at 

II 



Crumps 

five o'clock this afternoon just as the twi- 
light commenced. We sailed out in three 
lines. The convoy is now under way and we 
extend as far as can be seen in both direc- 
tions. We have two military police patrols 
whose chief duty is to see that no matches 
are struck on deck. Bill, who smokes more 
matches than tobacco, has had to go below so 
often to light his pipe, that he has decided to 
do without smoking on deck. It is surprising 
how far a match struck in the dark will show. 
We noticed how matches struck on the other 
ships showed up last night. All our port- 
holes are screwed down with the heavy 
weather irons and those of the second-class 
cabins are covered with blankets. The au- 
thorities are taking no chances. 

We are having physical drills and lectures 
all day, and we are working just as hard on 
board as we would ashore. Our speed will not 
be more than nine knots; the speed of the 
slowest vessel regulating the speed of the 
whole fleet. 

12 



Crumps 

Matches are getting very scarce. We 
complained about the tea to the orderly 
officer to-day; milk is running out, so the 
tea is made with milk and sugar in. We 
asked to have the three separate, but we were 
told that if we complained we would have all 
three taken away. As a floor stain it's great, 
but as tea it's a failure. 

We are quartered in the steerage part of 
the ship and our food is in keeping. It is 
really remarkable how they can consistently 
get that same coal-oil flavor in all the food. 

War news is signaled from ship to ship by 
semaphore flags by day. It is posted up in 
the guard room daily. The news that the 
Indian troops landed in France on the 
29th of September was the chief item on the 
bulletin yesterday. We're short on things 
to read. Scraps of newspapers are devoured, 
even to the advertisements. In our cabin we 
have a "Saturday Evening Post" of Sep- 
tember 26th which is thumb-marked and 
torn, but it is still treasured. We were not 

13 



Crumps 

allowed to bring anything besides our kit on 
board on account of the limited space. 

Reveille blows at six o'clock and we have 
to answer the roll-call at 6.15. The idea Is, 
that If the men get up and walk about, they 
are not so likely to get seasick, but in spite 
of that quite a number are sick. We have 
on board one hundred of our brigade; two 
hundred and sixteen heavy artillery and one 
hundred and forty horses, together with artil- 
lery officers and equipment. The horses take 
up the same space which in ordinary times 
is occupied by humans. Otherwise, we 
should have a great many more troops. Our 
destination is still a mystery. We're a fleet 
without a port. 

Have just been ordered on fatigue to take 
a prisoner on deck for exercise. He is to be 
tried by court-martial to-morrow for striking 
a sergeant. All day he is kept locked up and 
only allowed out at night for exercise, under 
escort. The escort consists of two men and a 
non-com. While on this job we watched the 
signalers flashing the war news from the stern 

14 



Crumps 

of our boat to the bridge of the next astern, 
the Virginian. The news is flashed at night 
by the lamps — short and long flashes. The 
news is picked up by wireless on the flagship, 
the Charybdis, at the head of our line and 
signaled back from ship to ship. 

This is the list of the fleet. It is written 
here in the order in which they are sailing. 
Three warships are heading the fleet; the 
flagship is the H.M.S. Charybdis, com- 
manded by Admiral Wemyss, who distin- 
guished himself a few weeks ago in the Battle 
of Heligoland. 



H.M.S. Glory 



H.M.S. Diana 


H.M.S. EcUpse 


H.M.S. Charybdis 


Caribbean 


Megantic 


Scotian 


Athenia 


Ruthenia 


Arcadian 


Royal Edward 


Bermudian 


Zealand 


Franconia 


Alaunia 


Corinthian ^ H.J 


Canada 


Ivernia 


Virginian 


Monmouth 


Scandinavian 


Sasconia 


Manitou 


Sicilian 


Grampian 


Tyrolia 


Montezuma 


Andania 


Tunisian 


Lapland 


Montreal 


Laurentic 


Cassandra 


Laconia 
Royal George 




H.M.S. Talbot 



1 The transport on which I was shipped. 

The H.M.S. Glory, the vessel on our star- 
board beam, altered her course to-day and 

15 



Crumps 

held up a tramp steamer. We could just 
see the two vessels through our glasses. 
Apparently everything was all right as the 
tramp was allowed to go on her way after- 
wards. 

We are all given our boat stations. This 
afternoon a submarine alarm was sounded. 
Everybody on board, including the stewards, 
had to drop everything and chase to the 
boats. In the excitement a cook shot a 
"billy" of soup over an officer's legs, much 
to our silent delight. 

Thinking it over, it will be remarkable if 
the Germans allow us to cross without 
making some attempt to sink a few trans- 
ports. Besides the actual loss of the men, 
the demoralizing effect it will have on the 
recruiting would count a great deal. No 
man likes to be shot or drowned without a 
show. 

I am writing this in my cabin, which is only 
nine feet by six feet and in which six of us 
sleep at night. Besides living in it we have 

i6 



Crumps 

to keep all our equipment clean, which is 
some job ! 

About eleven this morning a commotion 
occurred in the middle line. The cruiser 
heading it and the second ship, the Royal 
Edward, turned back. Also several other 
boats turned in their course. As we have 
very little excitement we hoped it might be 
a German attack, for we all want to see a 
naval battle. I looked at the cruiser through 
powerful glasses and saw sailors fixing up 
the starboard lifeboat, so we presumed that 
it was simply a case of "man overboard." 

A big cruiser has joined our fleet and is 
acting as a flank guard about three miles 
away from our starboard side. 

We have a great deal of physical exercise 
in spite of the rolling of the deck. This 
morning, while in the middle of it I was called 
away to dress and form part of an escort to 
the prisoner who was to be tried by field 
court-martial to-day. The court was very 
dignified, and it took a long time owing to 
the inexperience of the officers in such 

17 



Crumps 

matters. It was the first court-martial I 
have seen, — the proceedings are strictly 
legal, being conducted according to the book, 
and with the officers wearing their swords. 
The poor devil expects two years. 

We have been pitching and tossing a great 
deal to-day. Physical exercising on the slop- 
ing decks is becoming a mighty risky thing. 

Quite a number of the transports have guns 
mounted on board so they are not entirely 
dependent on the cruisers. It looks as if we 
are sailing north of the usual trade routes. 
I have just heard that five more battleships 
are on the starboard beam. They came into 
sight early this morning, but have since 
been out of sight. We are sailing north of 
the trade routes. 

The fleet is being increased. All ships are 
stopped. Those sailing west are allowed to 
go after being boarded; those going in the 
same direction as ourselves are made to fall 
into line, so there will be no danger of the 
news of our sailing reaching Europe ahead 

i8 



Crumps 

of us. If we continue to pick up ships sailing 
in our direction, the fleet will be enormous 
by the time we arrive at our unknown 
destination. We sailed two hundred and 
twelve miles the last twenty-four hours. 

Two more transports have joined us. 
They came from Newfound and I hear 
that we now have forty-three ships in the 
fleet. We sail at ten cables' length apart, 
about one thousand yards. 

We are getting into more dangerous water 
evidently. Early this morning the Royal 
George steamed up from the end of the line 
and took up a position at the head of the 
fleet, but in line with the battleship Glory 
about three miles away on the port. The 
Laurentic took up a similar position on the 
starboard. Both these ships are armored 
and have guns mounted on them. They 
are being used as scouts. 

We all rushed up on deck to see a cruiser 
pass close to us this midday. It was a mag- 
nificent sight. She was either the H.M.S. Bris- 
tol or the H.M.S. Essex; her name was painted 

19 



Crumps 

out. The bluejackets were massed on the 
decks forward and as she went by the marines 
band played *'The Maple Leaf Forever." 
We returned cheers with the sailors. It 
gives you a great thrill to see a British ship 
and to have the knowledge of what it repre- 
sents. To be British is a great thing, and 
I'm proud to think that I'm going to fight 
for my country. When this war is over and 
men are talking round a table, it will be, 
"Where were you fighting during the war?" 
not "Did you fight during the war?" 

I'm in a gun-cleaning squad every after- 
noon. To-day I cleaned the machine gun on 
which I'm second gunner. We treat our 
machine guns as if they were pets. No one 
will ever be able to say that my gun is dirty. 
It will probably be my best friend some day. 

The finding of the court-martial was read 
out to us on full parade this afternoon. 
First the "Heavies" were lined up on all 
sides of the deck, then the "Mosquitos," 
as the Machine Gunners are called, lined up 

20 



Crumps 

inside; the prisoner between an escort was 
led up in the center. It was wonderfully 
impressive. I felt that I was to witness the 
condemning of a fellow soldier to a number 
of years of hard labor. Over the whole 
assembly there came a deathlike silence and 
the finding of the court was read to us by an 
officer, the sentence being thirty-six days ! 

The second steward told me that it took 
two hundred carpenters twelve hours to tear 
down the cabins and fix up horse fittings. 
First the authorities made arrangements to 
ship a thousand troops on this ship We're 
crowded as we are now with only three 
hundred odd. I hate to think what it would 
have been like with a thousand. 

Early this morning a large man-o'-war 
came up on the port at a speed that made 
everything else seem to stop. We have now 
battleships on all sides. This ship, although 
a long way off, looks tremendous. She is one 
of the latest super-dreadnaughts. 

I was on guard last night when one of the 

21 



Crumps 

cruisers came alongside to talk to the 
captain about having lights showing in some 
of the ports. I enjoyed it immensely, for I 
discovered that the British Navy, true to 
tradition, was still able to maintain its high 
level of profanity. The ship is in pitch 
darkness and there is no moon. On deck it's 
almost impossible to walk it's so dark. 
To night is supposed to be the night on 
which the Germans are going to make a 
raid. I am going to sleep on deck so that 
I shall not miss anything. I 'd hate to miss 
the chance of seeing a naval engagement. 
I can't see how the Germans can possibly 
let a chance go by. A nervy cruiser could 
sink any amount of ships. If the British 
Navy were up against us they would have 
had a cut in before now. 

Slept on deck last night. Nothing hap- 
pened except that early this morning a 
French cruiser joined us, and I got covered 
with smuts from the smokestack. 

The Admiral has received one hundred 
and twenty-six words of war news, but will 

22 



Crumps 

not let us have them. Probably theyVe 
disastrous. We break up to-night or to- 
morrow. It's scarcely likely that the whole 
fleet will be taken to one port at the same 
time. 

That super-dreadnaught passed down the 
columns to-day. She is of tremendous size 
and travels at high speed. She is probably 
the Queen Mary. 

Expect to see land Wednesday. 

Blowing a gale. All day the spendrift has 
been blowing over. The decks have been 
too wet for parades, thank God! All the way 
over we have had physical exercise, some- 
times as much as four hours a day. We're 
all in fine physical condition. 

To-day we were allowed to wash our 
clothes. I can see the advantage of khaki 
now. Even after working hard on my 
clothes, my underwear is still dark white. 
The rails were covered with underwear 
and socks when the storm started. Now 
every square inch below is used for drying 

23 



Crumps 

clothes. Even the electric lights are fes- 
tooned. We have a final kit inspection 
to-morrow and then we pack for disem- 
barkation. We are only about one hundred 
miles from the '* Bishop's Light." 

It has been a very long voyage and we 
have been very cramped. All our equipment 
has to be carried in our cabins. Try sleeping 
six men with all their outfit in a cabin nine 
feet by six feet. The ship carpenter has a 
standing job to repair our cabin. We have 
rough-housed so much that his attention 
was continually necessary. The trip has 
been so long that we are now beginning to 
hate each other. I went down in the stoke- 
hole and the engine-room. Even amongst 
the whirling machines it was more peaceful 
than in our quarters. It seems months since 
I was in Montreal last. 

Dear Old England in sight! 
We're passing the Lizard now. 
The kit has all been inspected and we hope 
to land to-morrow some time. 

24 



Crumps 

We're lying in the historic harbor of 
Plymouth; arrived here about two hours 
ago. We're surrounded by fast little torpedo- 
boat destroyers, which are chasing round us 
all the time like dogs loosened from a chain. 
The breakwater has searchlights mounted 
on each end and fixed lights are playing 
from the shore. As the lights occasionally 
flash up the ships in the bay, it is as bright 
as day. Nobody is allowed ashore, not even 
the officers. We may go on to Southampton, 
only we must get there before five at night. 
After that time nothing is allowed in. 

Sailed at daybreak on to Devonport. 
Most of the transports are now lying in pairs 
at anchor in the harbor. We're close to the 
shore. We can see naval "jolly boats" and 
pinnaces sailing back and forth. On one 
side are lying the H.M.S Powerful and 
another boat, both of which in their day 
were the pride of the Navy. The Powerful 
was the boat which made such a name for 
herself in the Boer War. Now both of these 

25 



Crumps 

Still on board and we shall probably be 
here for a few days more. My, it's galling 
to be so near to the land and yet to be cooped 
up in our crowded quarters. Crowded 
launches and steamers are sailing round the 
liners. All day long cheering crowds come 
out to see us. Last night another liner 
called Florizel, with the First Regiment 
Newfoundland troops, tied up to us. They 
were a fine-looking lot of men. We told them 
we had no tobacco; they threw dozens of tins 
of their tobacco and cigarettes over to us. 
We fought for them. I got the remains of 
one tin with most of the contents spilt. 
Still, as many of us have n't had a smoke for 
three days, we appreciated it. Several cruis- 
ers have come in to-day, and there seem 
to be dozens of submarines and torpedo 
boats cruising around all day. The reason 
we did not go to Southampton is that five 
German submarines were waiting for us. 

The transports are unloading at the rate of 
five or six ships a day. It will probably be our 
turn on Sunday. The fleet looks splendid at 

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night now that we have most of the lights 
on. All night the steel riveters are at work on 
three battleships that are being built close by. 
Near us are several "wooden walls." One 
is a ship of Nelson's, the Queen Adelaide. 
Every boat, tug, lighter and motor boat 
here is the property of the Admiralty. 

We are probably going to Salisbury Plain 
for two months. We are the first Expedition- 
ary Force to land in England from the do- 
minions or colonies, but others are on their 
way. The sailors from the training ships 
serenade us in boats with bands and play 
"O Canada," "The Maple Leaf Forever," 
and all day long on one ship or the other 
we hear "It's a Long Way to Tipperary." 
Every one is singing it; without doubt it is 
the song of the war. To-day we got a bundle 
of papers. We read them right through to 
the advertisements. Cigarettes and matches 
are at a premium and food is running out on 
board. The strain of staying here is becom- 
ing too great. We're all disagreeable and 

28 



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insubordinate. The guard room is already 
full and will soon need enlarging. 

On guard to prevent the men of the two 
ships (our own and the Florizel with the 
Newfoundlanders) coming over to visit each 
other. At ten o'clock at night I got the tip 
that a bunch of men were going to make a 
break for shore and I was asked to go. I 
had just come off sentry and was dressed 
for shore. We all met up forward, hailed a 
police boat, climbed down a rope ladder 
across two barges unloading shells and into 
the police launch. When I got in I found 
that I and one other fellow were the only 
privates; all the rest were sergeants and 
corporals, thirteen altogether, unlucky num- 
ber. The police sergeants asked me if we 
had passes. I said, "You bet," and we sailed 
away from the ship right under everybody's 
nose. We landed and then took a car to 
Plymouth and went on the Hoe, which has 
been in absolute darkness since the beginning 
of the war. Girls were very interested in us 
and took most of our collar badges and but- 

29 



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tons as souvenirs. One man asked me to 
give him a cigarette as a souvenir. 

We met an English captain in a tobacco- 
nist's and he invited us up to the barracks. 
Two of us went. I was one. To get there 
we had to go on a street car. We had just 
sat down when up the stairs came my 
Lieutenant McCarthy. When he saw me he 
said, "How the hell did you get here?" "Oh, 
just swam across." "Well, if you get caught 
it'll be the guard room for you." I said, 
"Never mind, we'll have company." He 
IS a pretty good sport. We went to the 
barracks, had a session with the captain, then 
went to the quay, picked up the rest of the 
men, and sneaked on board. I got to bed 
at three and had to get up this morning at 
six o'clock to go on guard. 

Sunday, very tired. On guard all day, 
two hours on, four off. It's very unfortunate 
having a Sunday guard, because in the ordi- 
nary way we have to attend church parade 
in the morning and after having listened 

30 



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to a sermon and sung "Onward, Christian 
Soldiers," or, "Fight the good fight," we are 
free for the day, whereas guards stay on 
twenty-four hours. 

The major noticed one of the sergeants 
coming on board this morning at six o'clock. 
The idiot missed us this morning and of 
course that dished us. The sergeants got in 
wrong. As I am only a private, and there- 
fore ignorant and simple according to the 
military code, and, being with non-commis- 
sioned officers who are supposed to possess 
superior intelligence, I got away with it. 
The sergeants have had to do sentry on the 
same ladder we went down. 

Everybody is as disagreeable as possible. 
We are lying in midstream and can see the 
town. Can you imagine anything more 
galling than that.^ 

While I was on guard the Vicar of Plym- 
outh came aboard and held service. He said 
that the last time a Vicar of Plymouth 
preached to warriors was just before Drake 
sailed to meet the Armada. 

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Thank God! moving at last. We've 
moored up to the docks just opposite two 
magnificent dreadnaughts. Naval men are 
handling our cargo, our kit bags are packed 
and we are ready to disembark. 

Near our ship's stern is a barge full of 
ventilators and spare parts of ships which are 
taken away when ships are cleared for action. 
Some of the rifle racks were marked Corn- 
wall and I noticed a davit post with the name 
Highflyer, the boat that sank the Kaiser 
Wilhelm after she had been preying on the 
shipping off South Africa. When a ship is 
cleared for action, all inflammable fittings, 
such as wooden doors, ladders, racks, extra 
boats, and davits, etc., are discarded. If the 
order to "clear the decks for action" comes 
at sea, overboard go all these luxuries. It is 
calculated that the cost of "clearing decks" 
on a cruiser is five thousand dollars. 

Some of our stuff was unloaded yesterday, 
and when the ship moved a guard was placed 
over it. When the corporal went down the 
gangplank with the relief, Pat and I walked 

32 



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down behind as if we were part of the same, 
right by the officers. We had a devil of 
a job to get through the dock gates, a 
suspicious policeman and sentry on guard. 
We told the sergeant of the police a pitiful 
story, saying that we had n't had anything to 
eat for three days, and finally he relented. 
"All right, my lads, only don't 'swing the 
lead' in town." We got into Devonport and 
went to the biggest hotel. Before they had 
time to throw us out we ordered breakfast 
of real food. It was fine after the ship's 
grub. After sitting there ten minutes, the 
general commanding the district came in and 
sat behind us. He stared. Two privates 
in the same room as the general ! ! But all 
he said was, "If you boys can fight as you 
eat, you '11 make an impression." Then we 
visited some other places ! 

We went back to the docks and went over 
the super-dreadnaughts. Tiger and Benbow, 
the biggest war vessels in the world. The 
Tiger's speed on her trials was 37.5 knots an 
hour. 

33 



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After we had seen enough, we went back 
to the ship and tried to look as if we had been 
working with one of the fatigue parties on 
shore. It worked! 

We marched off the ship midday and then 
I had to go on guard again all night. That 
was the first time we were allowed ashore to 
see the town, and I was on guard, so if I 
had n't slipped ashore on the two occasions 
mentioned, I should not have seen it at all. 

It rained all night, and when I was off 
guard I slept on the top of one of our armored 
trucks, under a tarpaulin. It's wonderful 
how we can sleep now anywhere, and we 
often have our clothes on for three days at a 
time. Many a time I sleep with all my 
equipment on. Get wet and dry it by keep- 
ing it on. We all have to do it. The idea 
of pajamas or baths as necessities seems 
funny. At one time I would sooner go with- 
out breakfast than miss a bath. Now I make 
sure of the breakfast. 

We are going to drive our cars through 
34 



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England to Salisbury Plain. We started this 
morning and drove through Devonport. 
Cheering crowds everywhere. All our cars 
wear the streaming pennants: '' Canada With 
the Empire," which pleased the people a 
great deal. 

As we rode through the streets people 
showered gifts upon us, such as cakes, choco- 
lates, newspapers and apples, and every- 
where made lusty demonstrations. The 
people of Taunton, as soon as they heard that 
the Canadians were coming, turned out the 
barracks and we were met by all the officers, 
who came in to talk to us. One second lieu- 
tenant, after studying me for some time, 
said, "Is n't your name Keene.^" "Yes," I 
replied, "but how do you know?" "I went 
to school with you fifteen years ago." His 
name was Carter; he was in the Second Dor- 
sets. That night he got me out of barracks 
for a couple of hours, and we hashed over 
the schoolboy reminiscences. The people of 
Taunton were arranging a dance for us, but 
nobody was allowed to attend. The major 

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believes in putting us to bed early; his theory 
being that a man can't drive cars well after a 
party, and he could n't keep the drivers in 
alone. 

Ladies from Taunton, of the pleasing Eng- 
lish type with beautiful complexions, handed 
round all sorts of rubbish, jam puffs, and 
other things which belong to the time before 
we joined the army. 

Traveled all the morning. Everybody 
turned out to see us. The Brigadier-General 
wired ahead, and hastily prepared placards, 
still wet, were hanging from the windows, — 

God Bless the Canadians^ 
Loyal Sons 

of 
The Empire 

The gathering of 
the Lions' whelps 

and in one case the haste was so great that 
'^God Save the King" was hung upside down. 
Everybody wants my badges and buttons, 
36 



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and some men in the unit have not one 
left. Hence I have requisitioned an order 
for a hundred to meet the demand. 

All over the country you see "Kitchener's 
Army" drilling. In one case we passed about 
a hundred of them. When they saw us they 
broke ranks and shook us by the hands. The 
people of England are much impressed with 
our speed in coming over. Old men and 
women shouted, "God bless you, Canadians!" 
while tears trickled down their cheeks. 

I read this notice in one little shop, — 

At noon every day the church bell will ring a 
few chimes and everybody is asked to stop what- 
ever he is doing and offer this prayer, "Oh, Lord, 
help our soldiers and sailors to defeat our enemies, 
and let us have Peace." 

(Signed) The Vicar. 

Recruiting notices ten feet by six feet with 
the sentence "Your King and Country Need 
You" are to be seen everywhere in shops, on 
bams, trees, and even church doors. 

Motorists and cyclists are warned to pull 
up whenever requested or the results may be 

37 



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serious. Most of the motors have O.H.M.S. 
plates above the number plate. 

We billeted in a village school; all slept in 
our blankets on the floor. Left the school 
and cleaned up before the kids came for their 
lessons next day. 

Salisbury Plain. Arrived to-day. This 
part is called Bustard and takes its name from 
the small Bustard Inn, Headquarters of Gen- 
eral Alderson, General Officer Command- 
ing. Troops are here in thousands and we are 
no novelty. The roads are torn up. Mud 
is two feet deep in places. All through the 
day and night motor lorries, artillery and 
cavalry are traveling over the ground. Aero- 
planes are circling overhead and heavy artil- 
lery are firing. We see the shells bursting 
on the ranges every day. 

Always raining. Everything is wet, and 
I am sleeping in a rotten tent which leaks. 
Still, we are all so fit that what would kill an 
ordinary man does n't worry us much. 

We all get three days' leave and are trying 
38 



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by every means possible to wangle another 
day or two. Many men have to see dentists, 
and lots of men have grandparents in Scot- 
land who display signs of dying suddenly. 
If the excuse is good enough, we get four 
days and sometimes five. I have a sweet- 
heart in Scotland, but if that is played out 
I have to work something else. 

Wonderful sight from where I am now. 
Miles of tents, motors and horse lines on this 
desolate moorland. No houses; only camps 
and a few trees which have been planted as 
wind screens. The soil is very poor, too poor 
for farming. It is government property and 
it is only used for troops. We are ten miles 
from a railroad. We are so isolated that we 
might be in Africa, except that it's so cold. 

The papers are starting an agitation to 
get the Canadians to march through Lon- 
don, and are asking why they should be 
smuggled in and then shut up on Salisbury 
Plain. They want to see us, and we want 
TO SEE London!! 

39 



Crumps 

Our ambulance car has been used every- 
day since we came here, taking wounded 
from one hospital to another. The rest of 
our cars have been used to carry German 
prisoners. 

One of the spies caught on the ships is 
said to have been shot. Several were ar- 
rested; two were caught in Devonport while 
we were there, one in a Canadian officer's 
uniform. 

Am spending seventy-two hours' leave in 
London. Got leave through this telegram 
which is from "the girl I'm engaged to": 

Disappointed. Met train. Please do come. 
Leaving for Belgium soon. Love. 

Edythe. 

She is a Red Cross nurse. This is a new 
one and it worked. McCarthy sent it to me. 

London is very dismal. No electric signs, 
and the tops of all the street lamps are painted 
black so that the lights don't show from 
above. However, we managed to have a 

40 



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good time, in spite of it all. The Germans 
say that the Canadians are being held in 
England to repel the invasion. 

The facilities for bathing are not very 
extensive. I rode into Salisbury, a distance 
of seventeen miles, yesterday, on top of some 
packing-cases in a covered transport wagon, 
for a bath, the first since I was last on leave. 
We get a Turkish bath in town for thirty 
cents. After that we had a large juicy steak 
and then started our seventeen-mile trip back 
through the pouring rain. Every other mile 
we got down and helped the driver swear 
and push the car out of the mud, vast quan- 
tities of which abound on the Salisbury 
roads, believe me ! ! 

It is Sunday afternoon. Most of the men 
in camp are asleep or reading. Outside it 
is raining. It seems to be always raining, 
and occasionally we have such a thick fog 
that even a trip to get water is exciting 
before you can get back to your own lines. 

41 



Crumps 

Owing to our camp having become a swamp 
we have had to move our quarters to drier 
ground. Moving the tents is not a big job, 
but rebuilding the cook-house is! I figure 
that when I leave the army I shall have a 
few more professions to choose from. For 
example, I'm a pretty hefty trench digger; 
then as a scavenger I am pretty good at 
picking up tin cans and pieces of paper; also 
I'm an expert in building things such as 
shelters from any old pieces of timber that 
we can steal; then as a cook I can now make 
that wonderful tea that I wrote you about, 
besides many other things which we did n't 
realize that we had to do when we enlisted. 

To-day the paper says "Fair and Warmer." 
We could do with some of that. Years ago, 
before I joined the army and lost my iden- 
tity, I rather liked occasionally getting wet 
in the refreshing rain; but now the trouble 
is that we are always wet and have nowhere 
to dry our things, except by sleeping on 
them. 

Our major has an original scheme of train- 
42 



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ing men in the ranks to qualify for commis- 
sions, sort of having half a dozen embryo 
officers ready. I have been picked as one and 
have to study in all my spare time. It means 
a great deal more work, but it's very inter- 
esting and the sort of thing I would like to 
do. We start to-day. 

We began our instruction on the machine 
gun to the officers and the men who are 
up here for a special course; I have a boozy 
lieutenant, who does n't care a hang, and a 
bright non-com. Some of the officers we 
brought over make good mascots. 

It was fine to-day. We were even able to 
open up the tent flap to dry the place a bit. 
To-day the major congratulated me on the 
Christmas card I designed for the unit. 

Our classes of instruction to the "alien" 
officers finish to-morrow. Both the men I 
was instructing passed. 

The adjutant is very anxious to put us 
through our officers' training course quickly. 

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We are now recognized as the specialist corps 
in the machine-gun work with the Canadian 
Division, and he is anxious that we shall be 
ready to take commissions when casualties 
occur. Every battalion of infantry has a 
machine-gun section attached, and we have 
the job of training the officers and sergeants 
of these sections. 

Owing to the bombardment of the east 
coast, several of our battalions are under 
orders to move at a moment's notice. It is 
thought that the bombardment was simply 
a ruse to draw the British fleet away from 
around Heligoland. 

The newspaper boys in Salisbury, when 
you refuse to buy an "Hextra," shout 
"Montreal Star" and "Calgary Eyeopener," 
and all the shopgirls and barmaids in Salis- 
bury say, "Some kid," "Believe muh," "Oh, 
Boy!" 

I had been granted Christmas leave at the 
last minute, and as it was awkward to tele- 

44 



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graph to Northwich, I arrived after a long 
journey, lasting sixteen hours, ten minutes 
ahead of the letter I'd sent saying I was 
coming. My arrival soon spread over the 
town. A Canadian — this was a rather 
unique thing for Northwich, a little Cheshire 
town. Out of a population of about eighteen 
thousand, two thousand men have joined the 
colors. The men in uniform from the works 
are all receiving half pay. The other men 
who are staying are working twelve hours a 
day and give up part of their pay so that the 
jobs of the soldiers will be open when they 
come back. Thirty-five Belgian refugees 
are being kept here. Money to keep them 
for twelve months has been subscribed. One 
huge house has been taken over as a hospital 
with twenty-three nurses, all volunteers from 
Northwich. Everybody has done or is doing 
something in the great struggle. The young 
ladies in this neighborhood have no use for a 
man who is not in khaki, and with customary 
north of England frankness tell them so. 
I expect that you know that the Govem- 
45 



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ment has sent around forms to every house 
asking ^the men who are going to volunteer 
to sign, and men long past the military age 
have signed the papers, "too old for the war 
service, but willing to serve either at home or 
abroad voluntary for the period of the war." 
Others have offered to do work to allow 
young men to go, to keep their jobs for them. 
This shows the spirit that permeates Eng- 
land. There is only one end and that must 
be the crushing of the Germans. I don't 
believe people have any idea of the number 
of men who are at present under arms, 
and still the posters everywhere say that we 
must have more men. 

I wonder if you know that the Germans 
are shooting British prisoners who are found 
with what they consider insulting post-cards 
of the Kaiser, and even references to His All 
Highest in letters are dangerous. As we are 
nearing the time when we shall go across I 
thought I would mention it. 

We expect to leave England somewhere 
around January 15th. We have been living in 

46 



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the mud so long that we are getting quite 
web-footed. 

This is a war Christmas. People are too 
excited and anxious to celebrate it. I wonder 
what sort of a Christmas the next one will be! 
What a terrible Christmas the Germans must 
have had in Germany. They admit over one 
million casualties. Fancy a million in less 
than five months. During the Napoleonic 
wars, which extended over twenty years, six 
million died, and yet one side in this war 
already admits one million. 

The Canadian ordnance stores have been 
given instructions that all equipments down 
to the last button must be ready by the 15th 
of January. That date seems to be the 
favorite one. I believe it is the commence- 
ment of big things; a move will then be made 
to embark large numbers of troops across to 
France. 

All our telegraphic addresses were taken 
when we came away on leave in case it were 
decided to send units over before our term 
of leave expired. 

47 



Crumps 

A German aviator flew over Dover yes- 
terday and made a fierce and terrible bomb 
attack on a cabbage patch. Terrible casualty 
in cabbages. Berlin must have designs on a 
bumper crop of sauerkraut. 

Back in camp. It was hard to come down 
to it. Our blankets and clothes left in the 
tent were mildewed, clammy, and partly 
submerged. Our feet are wet and we are 
again soldiers, dirty and cold. 

Traveled down in the train with thirty-six 
men of the Canadian contingent who had 
formed an escort for fifty-six undesirables 
who have been shipped back to Canada. 
It seems strange when men are needed so 
badly to ship them back because they are a 
bit unruly or get drunk too often. They will 
all come back with future contingents. Six 
of them made a dash for it at Liverpool. 
Three of them got away altogether. 

It snowed yesterday. Last night the camp 
looked beautiful ; the tents lit up through the 
snow in the moonlight made a pretty picture, 

48 



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a suitable subject for a magazine cover, but 
mighty uncomfortable to camp in. 

In a gale last night many tents were blown 
down. We spent all day putting them up 
again. The cook house, a substantial frame 
building, has also blown down again. 

When I got back I found a Christmas 
hamper, a bunch of holly and a small box of 
maple sugar and packet of cigarettes from 
the Duchess of Connaught with her Christ- 
mas card. All parcels for the troops came 
in duty free. Our postal system is very 
efficient. We get our letters as regularly as 
we would in a town. 

People send us so many cigarettes that 
we sometimes have too many. I wish we 
could get more tobacco and fewer cigarettes. 
If you remember during the Boer War the 
authorities tried to break the ''Tommy" of 
his ''fags" by giving him more tobacco. 
Now they really seem to encourage cigarette 
smoking, although it really does n't matter; 
the same things which are harmful in towns 

49 



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don't have the same bad effects when we 
are living in the open. 

All leave is up by the loth of January for 
everybody, officers and men. 

The Princess Patricia Canadian Light 
Infantry have gone to the front to the envy 
of everybody. It is a splendid battalion 
with fine officers. They have been lying 
next to our lines and we have made many 
friends with the '"'Pats." 

Cerebro-spinal meningitis has broken out, 
and in spite of all efforts to check it, seems 
to be gaining ground. Several officers have 
died with it, and I believe that four battalions 
are quarantined. We have to use chloride of 
lime on the tent floors and around the lines. 
My friend Pat calls it ^' Spike McGuiness." 
The worst of a disease like this is that a 
patient never recovers. Even a cure means 
partial paralysis for life. I believe that 
Salisbury Plain is known for it, and I hear 
that all the ground that troops are now 
occupying is to be ploughed up when we 
leave. As far as that goes we have ploughed 

50 



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It up a bit already, but a systematic plough- 
ing will make it more regular. The subsoil 
is only four inches, then you come to chalky 
clay. The tent-pegs when they are taken 
from the ground are covered with chalk. 

I think that the Canadian Contingent has 
had a pretty raw deal. We're not even in- 
cluded in the six army divisions which are 
going to France by the end of March. Wish 
I had joined the "Princess Pats," who are 
already there. We want to fight. 

We're having a beastly time as compared 
with the Belgian refugees and the German 
prisoners in England. We're [beginning to 
wonder if we are ever going to the front. 
There is now some talk of billeting us in 
Bristol. We've been under arms nearly 
five months and should be good fighting 
material by now. With a similar number of 
men the Germans would have done some- 
thing by this time. 

All the last week the selected few of us have 
been working separately on a course of work 

51 



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to qualify us for commissions. We have had 
to study hard every spare minute when not 
drilling each other. 

Several dogs have attached themselves to 
us; sometimes they find themselves on a 
piece of string, the other end being in a man's 
hand. One of these, a big bull terrier, sleeps 
in the canteen. The beer is quite safe with 
him there, but two nights ago the canteen 
tent, after a great struggle, tore itself off the 
tent-poles and went fifteen feet up in the air 
like a balloon, then collapsed. The dog, I 
regret to say, did not stay at his post, so a 
quantity of beer will have to be marked down 
as lost. This same bull has a pal, a white bull 
terrier, who came out with the officers' class 
the other morning. We had not been drilling 
more than fifteen minutes when he came back 
with a large rabbit. We stewed it at night. 
It certainly was good. 

One of the mechanics has forged an Iron 
Cross which has been presented to the dog in 
recognition of his services. 

I doubt if I shall ever be able to sit up to a 
52 



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table again regularly. I would much sooner 
sleep on the floor, and I have found, when on 
leave, that I preferred sitting on a hearth- 
rug to a chair. Even while writing this I am 
lying on my blankets. My pipe is burnt 
down on one side from lighting it from my 
candle. 

To-day being Sunday and as there were 
only two of us left in the tent, the others 
being on leave, we gave it a thorough spring 
cleaning. It needed it! By some oversight 
the sun came out to-day, so that helped. 
We also washed up all our canteens and 
pannikins with disinfectant. 

The infantry are bayonet-fighting and 
practicing charges every day. If you want 
a thrill, see them coming over the top at you 
with a yell; the bayonets catch the light and 
flash in a decidedly menacing fashion. They 
practice on dummies, and are so enthusiastic 
that they need new dummies almost every 
lesson. 

Every man, on becoming a soldier, becomes 
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a man with a number and an identification 
disk. My number is 4SSSS and my "cold 
meat ticket," a tag made of red fiber, is 
hanging round my neck on a piece of string. 

We're packing up and expect to go away 
next week. Of course, it may be another 
bluff", but somehow I think we really are going 
now, as we have been fitted out with a "field 
service-dressing," a packet containing two 
bandages and safety pins, which we have to 
sew into the right-hand bottom corner of our 
tunics. We have also been given our active 
service pay book, a little account book in 
which we have our pay entered. We don't 
get paid much in the field. We carry this 
book instead. 

It seems always cold and wet. We are 
very hardened. We look tough and feel that 
way. I have n't had a bath for a month. 
Since I have been soldiering I have done 
every dirty job that there is in the army, and 
there are many. Often when a job seemed 
to be too dirty and too heavy for anybody 

54 



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else, they looked around for Keene and 
Pat. 

"On guard." Writing this in the guard 
tent, when we are not actually on sentry. 
We keep all our equipment on, as we are 
liable to be called out at any minute. We 
sleep with our belts and revolvers in place. 

A quarter guard is three men and a non- 
com. The men do two hours on and four off. 
When it comes to a man's turn he has to be 
on his beat no matter what the weather is 
like during the day or night. The cold is 
pretty bad and occasionally it snows. Some 
units have sentry boxes, but we have n't. 
We use a bell tent. I was called this morning 
at five o'clock to do my sentry from five to 
seven. The small oil stove which serves to 
heat the guard tents had evidently been 
smoking for an hour, and over everything 
was a thick film of lamp-black. Everybody 
thought it a great joke until they looked at 
themselves in the mirror and caught sight of 
their own equipment. We must come off 

55 



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guard as clean as we go on. I got out 
quickly and left them swearing and clean- 
ing up. 

From five to seven is the most interesting 
relief. I had first to wake the cooks at five 
o'clock and then I watched the gradual 
waking up of the camp. At six o'clock I 
had to wake the orderly sergeants and then 
far away in the distance the first bugle 
sounded reveille, then it was taken up all 
around and gradually the camps all over the 
Plains woke up. Men came out of the tents, 
the calls for the "fall in" sounded, and the 
rolls were called and the usual business of 
the day commenced. The change from the 
deadness of the night with its absolute still- 
ness all takes place in a very short time. To 
a person with any imagination it seems rather 
wonderful. You must remember that we 
can see for miles, and in every direction there 
are hundreds of tents. Each battalion is 
separate, and they have great spaces between 
them; still wherever you look you can see 
tents. 

S6 



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I wonder if I told you that aeroplanes are 
all the time flying over our camp. With 
characteristic British frankness they always 
have two huge Union Jacks painted on the 
undersides of the wings. We have become 
so used to them that we scarcely trouble to 
look up unless they are doing stunts. 

The frost makes a fine grip for the cars; 
when the ground freezes over we can take 
the cars anywhere, but unfortunately it 
thaws again too quickly. As we are a motor 
battery we are of course a mile from the road, 
and sometimes it takes an hour and a half to 
get on to it. 

It is a howling night, wind and rain galore. 
I'm wondering how long the tent will last. 
I have been out three times already to look 
at the tent pegs. How often it has been so 
since we first came on to these plains. If 
you are living in tents you notice the changes 
in weather more than under ordinary circum- 
stances, and every rain-storm has meant 

57 



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wet feet for us. But now we have been given 
new black boots, magnificent things, huge, 
heavy "ammunition boots," and the wonder- 
ful thing is they don't let water in. They are 
very big and look like punts, but it's dry 
feet now. I can tell you I am as pleased with 
them as if some one had given me a present 
of cold cash. At first they felt something like 
the Dutch sabots. They seemed absolutely 
unbendable and so we soaked them with 
castor-oil. Once they become moulded to 
the feet they are fine. Of course they are 
not pretty, but they keep the wet out. 

We have had new tunics issued to us of 
the regular English pattern, much more com- 
fortable than our other original ones, and 
then instead of the hard cap we now have 
a soft one, something like a big golf cap with 
the flap on to pull down over the ears. These 
are much more comfortable. They have one 
great advantage over the old kind — we can 
sleep in them. We can now lie down in our 
complete outfits even to our hats. Once I 
considered it a hardship to sleep in my 

58 



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clothes. Now to go to bed we don't undress; 
we put on clothes. 

I managed to get a pass to Salisbury on 
Saturday and went to the local vaudeville 
show. In the row in front of me were several 
young officers of the British Army, and it was 
striking what a clean-cut lot they were. 
England is certainly giving of her best. 
They were not very much different from any 
others, but at the same time they are the type 
of Englishmen who have done things in the 
past and will do things again. They are all 
Kitchener's Army. Thousands of men who 
have never been in the army before threw 
up everything to go in the ranks. You see 
side by side professors, laborers, lawyers, 
doctors, stevedores, carters, all classes, rich 
and poor, a great democratic army, drilling 
to fight so that this may be a decent world 
to live in. 

At present it is almost impossible to use 
each man in his own profession as they do in 
Germany, but sometimes the non-commis- 
sioned officers work it out in this way. 

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Sergeant to squad of recruits : — 
"Henybody 'ere know anythink abart 
cars?" 

"Yes; I do. I own a Rolls Roy ce." 
"Olrlght; fall out and clean the major's 
motor bike." 

One patriotic mother who had a son who 
was a butcher did her best to get him to join 
the Royal Army Medical Corps, because he 
was proficient at cutting up meat and would 
feel quite at home assisting at amputations. 

Now that we are approaching the time for 
our departure to France we are hearing that 
favorite farewell to all men going to the front, 
"Good-bye, I '11 look every day for your name 
in the casualty list." 

The "Princess Pats" have already been in 
action. They had a hard fight and many of 
them have been put out of business. We 
envied them when they went away and still 
do, although it only seems yesterday that we 
were lying together here and now a number of 
them are lying "somewhere in France." 

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The jam-making firm of Tickler was 
awarded a huge contract for the supply of 
"Tommy's" daily four ounces of jam; either 
plum and apple were the cheapest combina- 
tion or else the crop of these two fruits must 
have been enormous, because every single 
tin of jam that went to the training camps, 
France, Dardanelles, or Mesopotamia, was 
of this mixture. 

We became so tired of it that we used the 
unopened tins to make borders of flower-beds, 
or we used them to make stepping-stones 
across puddles. Eventually the world's 
supply of plums and apples having been used 
up, the manufacturers were forced to use 
strawberries. 

In the army all food is handled by the 
Army Service Corps, and as soon as they 
found real jam coming through they took 
it for their own and still forwarded on to us 
their reserve "plum and apple." The news 
got around amongst the fighting units: 
result — the Army Service Corps is now 
known as the "Strawberry Jam Pinchers." 

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ps 



Reviewed by King George V, and it was 
indeed a very impressive sight. Although 
there were only twenty thousand troops, 
they seemed endless. During the time that 
the King was on the parade ground in com- 
pany with Lord Kitchener two aeroplanes 
kept guard in the sky. Our K. of K. is a big, 
fine man who looks the part. An inspection 
by the King is always a sure sign of a unit's 
impending departure. He traveled down on 
the new railway which had just been built 
by the defaulters of the Canadian Contin- 
gent. 

At the last minute I managed to get week- 
end leave and went to London. No Cana- 
dians there! I caught sight of a military 
picket, sergeant and twelve men, looking for 
stray ones, though. Anotherlpicket held me 
up and made me button my greatcoat. I 
did! It is n't clever to argue with pickets at 
any- time! 

The train was three hours late. Troops' 
trains were occupying the lines, from Bul- 
ford we walked home in a hail-storm. Got in 

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about five o'clock just as the reveille was 
blowing in the other lines. They were just 
leaving for the front, and had made great 
fires where they were burning up rubbish 
and stuff they could n't take with them. 
Tons of it! Chairs, mattresses, and tables. 
When we move, everything except equipment 
has to be discarded. We can't do anything 
with extras. We have to cut our own stuff 
down to the very smallest dimensions. I 
walked through the lines afterward of other 
battalions who had left, and I saw fold-up 
bedsteads, uniforms, equipment, books, buck- 
ets, washing-bowls, cartridges and stoves 
of every conceivable kind and shape; hun- 
dreds, from the single "Beatrice" to the 
big tiled heaters. Some tents were half 
full of blankets thrown in, others with 
harness. All the government stuff is col- 
lected, but private stuff is burnt. 

In the army you soon realize that you have 
to make yourself comfortable your own way. 
I don't hesitate to take anything. If I have 
on a pair of puttees which are a bit worn and 

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I find a new pair, — well, I just calmly yet 
cautiously annex them and discard the old 
ones. We found a barrel of beer had been 
left by one of the other units, so we carefully 
carried the prize to our lines and then tapped 
it. Zowie! It was a beer barrel all right, 
only it was filled with linseed oil. 

Thank the Lord ! ! Under a roof, sitting on 
a real chair; tablecloth, plates; and I'm dry. 
We have come to Wilton (of carpet fame) 
and I'm in a billet. I have a real bed to 
sleep in. Last night I lay on the floor of a 
mildewed tent; could n't sleep on account of 
the cold. To-night I sleep between sheets, 
and the wonderful thing is that I'm not on 
leave. 

We drove our cars down here, each of us 
hoping that we would never again see Bus- 
tard Camp, Salisbury Plain, as long as we 
lived; it had been our home for five months. 
Yesterday we felt like mutiny; to-day every 
one is smiling. As soon as we were "told off" 
Pat and I went to our billet, a nice clean little 

64 



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house close to the center of the town. The 
owner is a baker. I felt kind of uncomfortable 
with my boots and clothes plastered up with 
mud, but the good lady said, "Don't 'e mind, 
come in, bless you ; I Ve 'ad soldiers afore. 
The last one 'e said as 'ow he could n't sleep 
it were so quiet 'ere." 

I had a wash (this is Friday night), the 
first since Wednesday morning. The idea 
of having as much water as you want, with- 
out having to go a half mile over a swamp, 
pleased me so much that I used about six 
basinsful in the scullery. 

When the lady of the house asked us what 
we would like to eat, we both fainted. I'm 
afraid we're going to get spoiled here. 
Could n't sleep at first. Cold sheets and 
having all my clothes off — too great a 
strain! Had breakfast and then drove our 
cars to the canal, where we scrubbed and 
washed them down inside and out. 

This afternoon I've been into every shop 
I could find, chiefly to talk to people who are 
not soldiers. Even went into the church to 



Crumps 

look around and listened to the parrotlike 
description of the place by the sexton. 

Everybody is happy, and although it has 
rained ever since we have been here, we 
have n't noticed it yet. I may say there 
are four or five kids, and the whole house 
could be packed into our front room. Still, 
"gimme a billet any time." 

I have just received the news that I have 
been given a Second Lieutenancy in the 
Motor Machine Gun Service, Royal Field 
Artillery, and I go into camp at Bisley at 
once. I am very glad that before being an 
officer I have been a private, because I now 
have the latter's point of view. I am going 
to try hard to be a good officer; promotion 
always means more work and responsibility, 
— so here goes. 

I have been very busy lately training my 
new section, and we are now part of the I2th 
Battery, Motor Machine Guns, 17th Division 
British Expeditionary Force, leaving to-day 
for the "Great Adventure." 

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Somewhere in France. At last we are here. 
We landed at a place the name of which 
I am not allowed to mention, and were 
then taken by a guide to a ^'Rest Camp" 
about two miles from the docks. If they 
had called it a garbage dump I should n't 
have been surprised. You would be very 
much surprised with the France of to-day. 
Everybody speaks English; smart khaki 
soldiers in thousands everywhere. 

Already I have seen men who have been 
gassed and the hospitals here are full of 
wounded. Our troops are arriving all day and 
night and marching away. English money is 
taken here, but French is more satisfactory as 
you are likely to get done on the change. The 
officers have a mess here just as in England. 
Actually we are farther away from the firing 
line than we were in camp at Bisley; but we 
leave to-day on our machines going direct to 
it. There was a transport torpedoed just 
outside; they managed to beach her just 
in time. The upper decks and masts are 
sticking up above water. 

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Since I last wrote anything in this diary 
we have ridden over one hundred and ten 
miles by road towards the firing line. All 
day yesterday it poured. The country was 
beautiful, ripening corn everywhere, the 
villages are full of old half-timbered houses, 
the roads are all national roads built for 
war purposes by Napoleon, and run straight; 
on either side are tall, poplar shade trees, so 
that the roads run through endless avenues. 

At night we stayed in a quaint village inn. 
The men all slept in a loft over their machines. 
Our soaked clothes were put in the kitchen 
to dry, but owing to the number of them, 
they just warmed up by the morning. One 
officer has to follow in the rear of every unit 
to pick up the stragglers. I had to bring 
up the rear of the column to-day — result: I 
did n't get in until early in the morning, 
only to find the other subalterns "sawing 
wood." 

Yesterday was the French National Day. 
We were cheered as we rode along, and 

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women and children smothered us with 
flowers. In the morning a funeral of two 
small children passed us. Our battery com- 
mander called the battery to attention and 
officers saluted. The priest was two days 
overdue with his shave — soldiers notice 
things like that, you know. 

To-day we continued our ride; the weather 
was much better — dried our clothes by 
wearing them. Strange to run through 
Normandy villages and suddenly come across 
British Tommies — many of them speaking 
French. A Royal Navy car has just passed 
us; our navy seems omnipresent. I saw an 
old woman reading a letter by the side of an 
old farmhouse to some old people, evidently 
from a soldier, probably their son. It re- 
minded me a great deal of one of Millet's 
pictures. Every one thinks of the war here 
and nothing but the war; it's not "Business 
as Usual." 

We stay here one night and move away 
to-morrow. We can hear the guns faintly. 

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The three section officers, myself and two 
others, are sleeping in a hut together. It is 
one of these new collapsible kind, very con- 
venient. We are now all in bed. Outside 
the only sound we can hear is the sentries 
challenging and the mosquitoes singing. 

All males are soldiers in France, even the 
old men. They look very fine in their blue 
uniforms, but I have a prejudice for our 
khaki Tommies. We get good food as we 
travel, but pay war prices for it. Cherries 
are now in season; we don't pay for them, 
however. 

Rode another sixty miles to-day. A car 
smashed into the curb, cannoned off and 
ran over me, busting my machine up. The 
front wheel went over my leg. My revolver 
and leather holster saved me from a fracture, 
but I got badly bruised up. I was very 
scared that I should not be able to go 
*'up" with the Battery. It would be almost 
a disgrace to go back broken up by a car 

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without even getting a whack at the Boche. 
Had to ride later on another machine twenty- 
five miles through the night without lights, 
in a blinding rain. 

Everything interesting. Should like to 
have a camera with me. I had to post mine 
back. So many things are done in the British 
Army by putting a man on his honor. They 
just ask you to do things. They don't order 
you to do it. It was that way with me; 
they merely "asked" me to post my camera 
back. 

Great powerful cars rush by here all day 
and all night, regardless of speed limits. 
Every hour or so you see a convoy of twenty 
or thirty motor lorries in line bringing up 
ammunition or supplies, or coming back 
empty. Every point bristles with sentries 
who demand passes. If you are not able to 
answer satisfactorily, they just shoot. The 
French soldiers have magnificent uniforms; 
the predominating color is a sort of cobalt 
blue. To see sentries, French and British 

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together, they make quite a nice color 
scheme. 

Officers censor all letters. I censor some- 
times fifty letters a day. One man put 
in a letter to-day, ''I can't write anything 
endearing in this, as my section officer will 
read it." Another, "I enclose ten shillings. 
Very likely you will not receive this, as my 
officer has to censor this letter." Of course 
we don't have time to read all the letters 
through. We look for names of places and 
numbers of divisions, brigades, etc., but I 
could n't help noticing that one of my men, 
whom I have long suspected of being a Don 
Juan, had by one mail written exactly the 
same letter to five different girls in England, 
altering only the addresses and the affection- 
ate beginnings. 

The village in which I am now was visited 
last September by twelve German officers 
who came through in motor cars; the villag- 
ers cried, "Vivent les Anglais," for not hav- 
ing seen an English soldier they took it for 
granted that the "Tommy" had come. 

72 




THE LORRY 



Crumps 

Everybody goes armed to the teeth. I 
have my belt, a regular Christmas tree for 
hanging things on, with revolver and car- 
tridges on even while I'm writing this. We 
carry a lot, but we soon get used to it. 

The corn is being cut now. Through the 
window opposite I can see it standing in 
newly-stacked sheaves. These places are 
the favorite sketching grounds of artists in 
normal times, and I often wonder if they 
ever will be again. 

We return salutes with all the French and 
Belgian officers. It is difficult sometimes to 
distinguish them. I got fooled by a Belgian 
postman, and then went to work and cut a 
French general. 

The nearer we get to the firing line the finer 
the type of soldier. They are the magnificent 
Britishers of Kitchener's First Army. It 
makes you proud to see them marching by, 
dirty and wet with sweat. I watched two 
battalions come through; they had marched 
twenty miles through the sun with new issue 

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boots ; a few of them had fallen out, and other 
men and officers were carrying their equip- 
ment and rifles; many of the officers carried 
two rifles. 

I am now well within sound of the guns. 
A German Taube was shelled as it came over 
our firing line yesterday. One man was lying 
on his back asleep with his hat over his eyes, 
when a piece of shrapnel from one of the 
"Archies" hit him in the stomach — result: 
one blasphemous, indignant casualty. From 
the road I can see one of the observation 
balloons, a queer sausage-shaped airship. 
We may be moved up into the thick of it 
at any time now. 

I have been over into Belgium to-day: 
crossed the frontier on my motor bike; the 
roads are terrible, all this beastly "pave" 
cobblestones; awful stuff to ride over on a 
motor cycle. Shell holes on both sides of 
the road, and I saw three graves in the 
corner of a hop garden. All along the 
road there were dozens and dozens of old 

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London motor buses, taking men to the 
trenches. They still have the advertisements 
on them and are driven by the bus-drivers 
themselves. Three hundred came over with 
their own machines. They are now soldiers. 
The observation balloon I mentioned yester- 
day was shelled down to-day. 

I am writing this in an old Flemish farm- 
house, and the room I'm sitting in has a 
carved rafter ceiling, red brick floor and 
nasty purple cabbage wallpaper. All the men 
of the house with the exception of the old 
man are at the war; one son has already 
died. The Germans have been through here. 
They tied the mayor of the town to a tree 
and shot him. The trenches have been filled 
in, all the wreckage cleared, and they have a 
new mayor. 

It IS not yet 7 a.m. I am an orderly officer 
and have to take the men out for a run at six. 
I came back and bought a London "Daily 
Mail" of yesterday from a country-woman. 
We are at least three miles from the town, 

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but they are enterprising enough to bring 
papers to us at this time in the morning. 
A "Daily Mail" costs four cents. 

Since I last wrote I have been up to the 
front line. Everything is different from what 
you imagine. The German trenches are 
easily distinguished through glasses; their 
sand-bags are multi-colored. Shrapnel was 
bursting over ruins of an old town in their 
lines. When you look through a periscope 
at the wilderness, it is difficult to imagine 
that thousands of soldiers on both sides have 
burrowed themselves into the earth. The 
evidence of their alertness is shown by their 
snipers, who are always busy whenever the 
target is up. 

A battery of eight-inch howitzers was 
opening fire. Our battery commander, hear- 
ing this, sent us up. The guns, big fellows, 
were well concealed. They were painted in 
protective colors and covered with screens of 
branches to prevent aerial observation. In 
the grounds all over the place were dug-outs, 
deep rabbit burrows, ten or twelve feet down, 

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into which everybody went immediately. 
The Germans started their "hate." The 
firing is done by hand cord; other big guns 
are fired electrically. An enormous flash, 
an ear-splitting crash, a great sheet of flame 
from the muzzle, and two hundred pounds of 
steel is sent tearing through the air to the 
" Kultur " exponents. The whole gun lifts off 
the ground and runs back on its oil-com- 
pression springs. These guns are moved by 
their own caterpillar tractors which are kept 
somewhere close by. In three quarters of an 
hour they can get them started on the road. 
The ground for these emplacements was the 
orchard of a chateau. While we were there 
a whistle blew three times, an order shouted; 
immediately the guns were covered up and 
the men took cover. The enemy had sent 
an aeroplane to locate them. If they could 
once find them, hundreds of shells would 
rain on this spot in a few minutes. At a few 
yards' distance I could n't see the guns 
myself. The "Hows" were firing at a house 
in the German lines which had been giving 

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trouble. In three rounds they got it and 
then started in to "dust" the neighborhood. 
Of course, the firing is indirect. The officers 
and men who are with the guns don't see the 
effects. Apparently they fire straight away 
in the air. The observation is done by the 
forward observing officer in the fire trenches 
who corrects them by 'phone. 

After the appointed number of rounds had 
been fired, we adjourned to the chateau, a 
fine house, marble mantelpiece, plaster ceil- 
ings, gilt mirror panels, etc. It has still a 
few pieces of furniture left, no carpets, most 
of the windows are smashed; shells have 
visited it, but chiefly in splinters. I saw one 
picture on the wall with a hole drilled in by 
a shrapnel bullet which had gone clean 
through as though it had been drilled. It 
had n't smashed the glass otherwise. From a 
window of the room, which the officers use 
as a mess, a neat row of graves is to be seen. 
Outside there are great shell holes, most 
of them big enough to bury a horse. Sud- 
denly a shriek and a deafening explosion 

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occurred in the garden. " Sixty-pound shrap- 
nel! Evening hate," said an artillery sub. 
We left! We had been sent up to see the 
guns fire and not to be fired at. 

To go home we had to pass a village com- 
pletely deserted, a village that was once 
prosperous, where people lived and traded 
and only wanted to be left alone. Now grass 
is growing in the streets. Shops have their 
merchandise strewn and rotting in all direc- 
tions. On one fragment of a wall a family 
portrait was still hanging, and a woman's 
undergarments. A grand piano, and a per- 
ambulator tied in a knot were trying to 
get down through a coal chute. To wander 
through a village like this one that has been 
smashed up, and with the knowledge that 
the smashing up may be continued any time, 
is thrilling. Churches are always hateful to 
the Germans. They shell them all; bits of 
the organs are wrapped around the tomb- 
stones, and coffins, bones and skulls are 
churned up into a great stew. In some of the 
villages a few of the inhabitants had stayed 

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and traded with the soldiers. They lived in 
cellars usually and suffered terribly. British 
military police direct the traffic when there 
is any, and are stationed at crossroads with 
regular beats like a city policeman. 

While traveling to another part of the 
line we had an opportunity of seeing the 
"Archies" (anti-aircraft guns) working. 
They were mounted on lorries and fire quite 
good-sized shells. They fired about fifty 
shots at one Taube, but did n't register a 
bull. Later in the evening from a trench we 
had the satisfaction of seeing another aero- 
plane set on fire, burn, and drop into the 
German lines like a shot partridge. Aero- 
planes are as common as birds. Yesterday 
a "Pfeil" (arrow) biplane came right over 
our lines and was chased off by our own 
machines. The enemy's aeroplanes have 
their iron cross painted on the underside of 
their wings and are more hawkish-looking 
than ours. They are more often used for 
reconnoitering and taking photographs than 
for dropping bombs. 

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We are being moved up closer to the fir- 
ing line. I have been made billeting officer. 
I went to headquarters; a staff colonel 
showed me a subdivision on a map. "Go 
there and select a place for your unit." The 
place was a wretched village of about six 
houses, all of which are more or less 
smashed about, windows repaired with 
sacking and pieces of wood. All of the 
inhabitants have moved except those who 
are too poor. Every square inch is utilized. 
I managed to get a cow-shed for the officers. 
It looks comfortable. On the door I could 
just decipher, written in chalk, by some pre- 
vious billeting officer, — 

2 Staff Officers 
6 Officers 
2 Horses 

Billeting chalk marks are on almost all the 
shops and houses up from the coast to the 
front. 

The field which we are expecting to put 
the men into belonged to a miller who lived 

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in a different area. We went to see him. He 
could n't speak English or French, so I tried 
him with German. While we were talking, 
I noticed some non-coms watching us very 
intently and was not surprised to find one 
following us back down the road. When he 
saw our car he came up and apologized for 
having taken us for spies. They are looking 
for two Germans in our lines wearing Brit- 
ish uniforms, who have given several gun 
positions away. Two days ago the enemy 
shelled the road systematically on both sides 
for half a mile when an ammunition column 
was due. It was quite dark before we left; 
the sky was continually lit up by the star 
shells, very pretty white rockets, which light 
up No Man's Land. The enemy ha-s a very 
good kind which remains alight for several 
minutes. 

Our days of comfortable billets are over, 
I am afraid. Unless you are working hard, 
it is miserable here, — wrecked towns, bad 
roads, shell holes, smells, dirt, soldiers, 
horses, trenches. The inhabitants are a 

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poor, wretched lot. Many of them are 
thieves and spies. We are right in Bel- 
gium, where flies and smells are as varied 
as in the Orient. 

Wherever we travel by day or night we are 
constantly challenged by sentries and have 
to produce our passes. We stopped in one 
darkened shell-riddled town and knocked up 
an estaminet; we got a much finer meal than 
you can get at many places farther back. 
We talked to the woman who kept it and 
asked her if she slept in the cellar. "Oh, no! 
I sleep upstairs, they never bombard except 
at three in the morning or nine at night. 
Then I go into the cellar." This woman was 
a very pleasant, intelligent person, most 
probably a spy. Intelligent people gener- 
ally leave the danger zone. 

Marching through the sloughed-up mud, 
through shell holes filled with putrid water, 
amongst most depressing conditions, I saw 
a working party returning to their billets. 
They were wet through and wrapped up with 
scarves, wool helmets, and gloves. Over 

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their clothes was a veneer of plastered mud. 
They marched along at a slow swing and in 
a mournful way sang — 

"Left — Left — Left 
We — are — the tough Guys ! " 

Apparently there are no more words to this 
song because after a pause of a few beats 
they commenced again — 

"Left — Left — Left — " 

They looked exactly what they said they 
were. 

Windmills, of which there are a good 
many, are only allowed to work under ob- 
servation. It was found that they were 
often giving the enemy information, using 
the position of the sails to spell out codes in 
the same way as in semaphore; clock-hands 
on church towers are also used in the same 
way. 

I saw a pathetic sight to-day. A stretcher 
came by with a man painfully wounded; he 
was inclined to whimper; one of the stretcher- 

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bearers said quietly to him, "Be British." 
He immediately straightened himself out 
and asked for a "fag." He died that night. 

We had a terrific bombardment last night; 
the ground shook all night and the sky 
was lit up for miles. The Boches used 
liquid fire on some new troops and we lost 
ground. 

I found this piece of poetry on the wall of 
a smashed-up chateau, and I have copied it 
exactly as I found it. The writing was on a 
darkened wall, and while I copied it my guide 
held a torchlight up to it. The place passes 
as "Dead Cow Farm" on all official maps. 

"I've traveled many journeys in my one score years 

and ten, 
And oft enjoyed the company of jovial fellow men, 
But of all the happy journeys none can compare to 

me 
With the Red-Cross special night express from the 

trenches to the sea. 

"It's Bailleul, Boulogne, Blighty, that's the burden 
of the song, 
Oh, speed the train along. 

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If you Ve only half a stomach and you have n't got 

a knee, 
You'll choke your groans and try to shout the chorus 

after me. 

Bailleul, Boulogne, and Blighty, dear old Blighty 
* cross the sea.' 

"Now some of us are mighty bad and some are 

wounded slight. 
And some will see their threescore years and some 

won't last the night. 
But the Red Cross train takes up the strain all In a 

minor key 
And sings Boulogne and Blighty as she rumbles to 

the sea. 

"Oh, it's better than the trenches and it's better than 
the rain. 

It's better than the mud and stink; we're going home 
again. 

Though most of us have left some of us on the wrong 
side of the sea. 

We are a lot of blooming cripples, but — down- 
hearted? No, siree. 

"There's a holy speed about this train for each of us 
can see 
That we will cross the shining channel that lies 'twixt 

her and me 
To the one and only Blighty, our Blighty, * cross the 

sea,' 
Where the blooming Huns can never come, 'twixt 
her and home and me." 
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Crumps 

"Blighty" IS the wound which sends a 
man home to England; it's a war word which 
came originally from the Indians, but now 
universally adopted in the new trench lan- 
guage. 

I was walking along a trench when a man, 
who was sitting on a firestep looking up into 
a little trench mirror (which is used by put- 
ting the end of the bayonet between the 
glass and the frame), just crumpled up, shot 
through the heart. He did n't say a word. 
The trench had thinned out and the bullet 
had come through, nearly four feet down 
from the top of the parapet. 

Bad shell fire this afternoon. Saw shells 
churning things up seventy-five yards away; 
many passed overhead; had a ride on my 
motor cycle with the other officers to recon- 
noiter the roads leading down to the part of 
the trenches we have taken over; road was 
shelled as we came along. Two " coal boxes " 
hit the road and smashed up a cottage in 
front of us; we picked up pieces of the shell 
too hot to hold. 

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Crumps 

Our billet now is another large farm, with 
the pump in the center of the manure heap 
as usual; our machines are parked all round 
a field close to the hedges to make a smaller 
target and also to prevent aerial observation. 

I went through a town this morning which 
has been on everybody's lips for months — 
I have never seen such devastation in my 
life; it bafiles description. The San Fran- 
cisco earthquake was a joke to this. Thou- 
sands and thousands of shells have pummeled 
and smashed until very little remains besides 
wreckage. Most of the shelling has been 
done to deliberately destroy the objects of 
architectural value. 

My quarters are in a loft amongst rags, old 
agricultural implements, sacks, and the ac- 
cumulation of years of dirt; flies wake me 
up at daylight. 

This morning I went for a drink in the 
estaminet I have mentioned already. Two 
shells have been through the sides of the 
house since we were last there, but they both 
came through at the usual scheduled time. 

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Crumps 

This poor country is pockmarked with 
shell craters like a great country with a skin 
disease. Trees have been splintered worse 
than any storm could do. Nothing has been 
spared. The mineral rights of this territory 
should be very valuable some day. When 
we have all finished salting the earth with 
nickel, lead, steel, copper, and aluminum, 
old-metal dealers will probably set up offices 
in No Man's Land. 

Belgium will have to be rebuilt entirely, 
or left as it is, a monument to "Kultur." 

My section has been ordered up to a divi- 
sional area on the south of the salient. In 
accordance with instructions I went up to 
Ypres this morning to find a place to park 
the machines. 

Contrary to the popular belief, we do not 
fight our guns from the motor cycles them- 
selves. We use our machines to get about 
on, and the guns are taken up as near as 
possible to the position we are to occupy, 
which is usually behind Brigade Headquar- 

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Crumps 

ters. Brigadiers have a great aversion to any- 
kind of motor vehicle being driven past their 
headquarters, owing to the movement and 
noise, which they believe attracts attention to 
themselves, and as a rule the sentries posted 
outside will see that no machines go by. We 
get up as far as we can, because after we part 
from our machines, everything must be car- 
ried up through the trenches by hand. 

I arrived at the town early and reported 
to the major who is in charge of the town and 
of the troops quartered there. He was liv- 
ing in the prison, a substantial brick and 
stone building, which has been smashed about 
a bit, but which is still a fairly good struc- 
ture. The major is a fine, gruff old gentle- 
man who was a master of fox hounds in the 
North of England. He came over with a 
detachment of cavalry. He is past the age 
limit, and it was decided that although he was 
a fine soldier, perhaps his age would be a 
deterrent and his job ought to be something 
lighter, so they gave him one of the fiercest 
jobs in the world — O. C. Ypres! 

90 



Crumps 

I was sent in, and when he heard my er- 
rand he said, "You want to park your ma- 
chines in Ypres? Why don't you take them 
up in the German front lines? You'll be safer 
there than here. Listen to the shelling now." 
I knew this, but I was doing just exactly 
what I was told. He continued : " I have now 
thousands of troops here and my daily casual- 
ties are enormous, so naturally I don't want 
any more men. The best plan for you will be 
to go down the Lille road and pick a house 
below ' Shrapnel Corner.'" 

I went on through the town, under the 
Lille gate, across the tram lines, past the 
famous cross-roads known as "Shrapnel 
Comer" and chummed up with some artil- 
lery officers. They told me that I could 
have any of the houses I wanted. I picked 
a couple which looked to me to be more com- 
plete than the rest and chalked them up. 
This whole place was alive with batteries. 
While I was there I heard a shout and sud- 
denly a hidden battery of guns, sunk behind 
the road with the muzzles almost resting on 

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Crumps 

It, started firing across in the direction of the 
part of Belgium occupied by Fritz. I had 
passed within two feet of these guns and yet 
had not seen them, they were so well " camou- 
flaged." On my way back I saw the "Big 
Berthas" bursting in the town, and I was 
surprised that so little damage had been 
actually done to the Lille gate itself. Shells 
had visited everywhere in the neighborhood, 
but had not smashed this old structure. 

I went home, collected my men together, 
and told them the importance of the work 
we were to undertake. I have found it al- 
ways a good thing to make the men think the 
job that they are doing is of great importance. 
Better results are obtained that way. 

We went to an "engineer dump" on the 
way up just after the enemy had landed a 
shell on a wagon loading building material, 
and wounded were being carried off and the 
mangled horses had been dragged on one 
side. As the wounded came by I called my 
section to attention, the compliment due to 
wounded men paid by units drawn up. 

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Crumps 

We drew our sandbags in the usual way 
by requisitioning for five thousand and get- 
ting one thousand. Always ask for more 
than you expect to get. 

As we came into Ypres, a military police- 
man on duty told me it was unhealthy to go 
the usual way through the Market Square, 
because the shelling was bad in that part of 
the town, so I spread the machines out and 
started on down a side street. We were get- 
ting on finely and I was congratulating my- 
self on getting through, when two houses, 
hit from the back, collapsed across the 
street in front of my machine. Without 
any ceremony I turned my machine back 
along the street which we had come and 
went through the Market Square down the 
Lille road, under the gate, being followed by 
my section. About four hundred yards down 
I stopped; holding my solo motor cycle be- 
tween my legs, standing up, I looked back. 
I counted my machines as they came up. If 
it had n't been so scary, it really would 
have been funny, to see these machines 

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coming down the road through shell holes 
and over piles of bricks, as fast as the 
drivers could make them go. The men were 
hanging on for dear life and the machines 
rocked from side to side, but they were all 
there. 

Down the road we went to the houses; 
there we parked the machines and unpacked. 
A guard was placed over them and the rest 
of us marched down to the trenches. 

An officer has to buy all his own equip- 
ment and is allowed two hundred and fifty 
dollars by the Government towards the cost. 
An officer carries a revolver, but all junior 
officers as soon as possible acquire a rifle.' 
The men of a "salvage company" were 
collecting all the rifles, bayonets, and parts 
of equipment near where I was to-day 
and I managed to get a Lee-Enfield (British 
rifle) in good shape. I felt that I would 
like to have a rifle and bayonet handy. 
I found a good-looking bayonet sticking in 
the side of a sandbag wall. It looked lonely. 

94 




WIPERS 



Crumps 

The scabbard I am using was resting in a 
loft of a deserted brewery. I am now com- 
plete with rifle, bayonet, and scabbard. 

Sometimes you see a man smashed about 
in a terrible way, such a mess that you think 
he is a goner; he may recover. Another man 
may have just a small wound and will die. 
A bullet hitting a man in the head will smash 
it as effectually as a sledge-hammer. Once 
a man leaves your unit, wounded, you don't 
see him again. You get a fresh draft. 

No one thinks of peace here. Germany 
must be put in a similar state to Belgium 
first. 

We never travel anywhere without our 
smoke helmets; they come right over our 
heads and are tucked into our shirts; they 
have two glass eye-pieces. When we have 
them on we look like the old Spanish gen- 
tleman who ran the "Star Chamber." 
Helmets must always be ready to put on 
instantly. Gas is a matter of seconds in 
coming over. The helmets are better than 
respirators, but have to be constantly in- 

95 



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spected. A small hole, or if one is allowed to 
dry, means a casualty. 

Storm brewing. Flies bad, driven in by 
the wind. Nature goes on just the same. I 
suppose that this farm would be just as fly- 
ridden in an ordinary summer. During the 
bombarding yesterday I noticed swallows 
flying about quite unconcerned. Corn, 
mostly self-planted, grows right up to the 
trenches. Cabbages grow wild. Communi- 
cating trenches run right through fields of 
crops; flowers grow in profusion between the 
lines, big red poppies and field daisies, and 
there are often hundreds of little frogs in the 
bottom of the trenches. 

A trip to No Man's Land is an excursion 
which you never forget. It varies in width 
and horrors. My impression was similar to 
what I should feel being on Broadway with- 
out any clothes — a naked feeling. Forty- 
seven and one half inches of earth are neces- 
sary to stop a bullet, and it's nice to have that 
amount of dirt between you and the enemy's 

96 



Crumps 

bullets. The dead lie out in between the lines 
or hang up on the wire; they don't look 
pretty after they have been out some time. 
It's a pleasant job to have to get their iden- 
tification disks, and we have to search the 
bodies of the enemy dead for papers and 
even buttons so that we can know what unit 
is in front of us. Flowers grow in between, 
butterflies play together, and birds nest 
in the wire. When the grass becomes too 
high It has to be cut, because otherwise it 
would prevent good observation. In some 
places grass does n't have a chance to even 
take root, let alone grow. The shells take 
care of that. 

I managed to get a translation of a diary 
kept by a German soldier who fell on the 
field. Below is an exact translation and gives 
the point of view of a man in the trenches on 
the other side of the line. He was writing 
his diary at the same time I was writing mine, 
and we were both fighting around the salient 
at Ypres, Hooge being on the point of the 
salient farthest east. This part, which was 

97 



Crumps 

once a place of beauty which people came 
long distances to see, is now like a great 
muddy Saragossa Sea which at the height of 
its fury has suddenly become frozen with 
the tortured limbs of trees and men, and 
wreckage and reeking smells, until it can 
again lash itself in wild fury into whirlpools. 
It is in all respects Purgatory, but of greater 
horror than Dante ever dreamt of. 

Diary of F- P of the 6th Company ^ 

jd Battalion, iS2d Regiment. Killed at 
Hooge on August Qth, igiS. 

On May lo, we were told to prepare for the 
journey to the front. Each man received his 
service ammunition and two days' rations, and 
we then started with heavy packs on our backs 
and our water-bottles full of coffee. After a long 
march we reached our reserve position, where we 
were put into rest billets for two days in wooden 
huts hidden in a wood. We could hear from here 
the noise of the shells coming through the air. 

On May 13, we moved into the trenches, in the 
night. We were a whole hour moving along a 
communication trench one and one-half metres 
deep, right up to the front line some fifty metres 

98 



Crumps 

from the enemy. This was to be our post. We 
had hardly got in before the bullets came flying 
over our heads. Look out for the English! They 
know how to shoot! I need hardly say we did 
not wait to return the compliment. We answered 
each one of their greetings and always with suc- 
cess, inasmuch as we stood to our loopholes for 
twenty-four hours with two-hour reliefs. 

At length early on the 15th, at four o'clock, 
came our first attack. After a preliminary smok- 
ing-out with gas, our artillery got to work, and 
about ten o'clock we climbed out of the trenches 
and advanced fifty metres in the hail of bullets. 
Here I got my first shot through the coat. Three 
comrades were killed at the outset of the assault, 
and some twenty slightly or severely wounded, 
but we had obtained our object. The trench was 
ours, although the English twice attempted to 
turn us out of it. 

The fight went on till eleven o'clock that even- 
ing. We were then relieved by the loth Com- 
pany, and made our way back along the com- 
munication trenches to our old positions. Here 
we remained until the third day, standing by at 
night and passing two days without sleep. We 
were hardly able to get our meals. From every 
side firing was going on, and shots came plugging 
two metres deep into the ground. This was my 
baptism of fire. It cannot be described as it 
really is — something like an earthquake, when 

99 



Crumps 

the big shells come at one and make holes in the 
ground large enough to hold forty or fifty men 
comfortably. How easy and comfortable seemed 
our road back to the huts. 

We remained in the huts for three days, rest- 
ing before we went up again to "Hell Fire," as 
they call the first line trenches in front of Ypres. 

Then suddenly in the middle of the night an 
alarm. Our neighbors had allowed themselves 
to be driven out of our hard-won position, and 
the 6th Company, with the 8th and 5th, had to 
make good the lost ground. A hasty march 
through the communication trenches up to the 
front, the night lit up far and wide with search- 
lights and flares and ourselves in a long chain 
lying on our bellies. Towards two in the morn- 
ing the Englishmen came on, 1500 men strong. 
The battle may be imagined. About 200 returned 
to the line they started from. Over 1300 dead 
and wounded lay on the ground. Six machine 
guns and a quantity of rifles and equipment were 
taken back by us, the 13 2d Regiment, and the 
old position was once more in our possession. 
What our neighbors lost the 13 2d regained. 
There was free beer that evening and a concert! 
At 1 1 p. M. once more we withdrew to the rear, 
our 2d, 4th and loth Companies relieving us. 
We slept a whole day and night like the dead. 

On June 15th, we again went back to rest bil- 
lets, but towards midday we were once more sent 

100 



Crumps 

up to the front line to reinforce our right wing, 
which was attacked by French and EngHsh. 
Just as we got to our trenches we were greeted 
by a heavy shell fire, the shells falling in front of 
our parapets, making the sandbags totter. See- 
ing this, I sprang to the spot and held the whole 
thing together till the others hurried up to my 
assistance. Just as I was about to let go, I must 
have got my head too high above the parapet, as 
I got shot in the scalp. In the excitement I did 
not at once realize that I was wounded, until 
Gubbert said — "Hullo, Musch! Why, you 're 
bleeding!" The stretcher-bearer tied me up, 
and I had to go back to the dressing-station to 
be examined. Happily it was nothing more than 
a mere scalp wound, and I was only obliged to 
remain on the sick-list four days, having the place 
attended to. 

June 24th. All quiet in the West, except for 
sniping. The weather is such that no offensive 
can take place. The English will never have a 
better excuse for inactivity than this — *'It is 
raining." Thank God for that! Less dust to 
swallow to-day! Odd that here in Belgium we 
are delighted with the rain, while in Germany 
they are watching it with anxiety. 

To-day we shall probably be relieved. Then 
we go to Menin to rest. Ten days without com- 
ing under fire. It is Paradise! 

Sunday, June 27th. At nine o'clock clean up. 

lOI 



Crumps 



At eleven roll-call. At three o'clock went to the 
Cinema — very fine pictures. In the afternoon 
all the men danced till seven, but we had to take 
each other for partners — no girls. 

July 2d. 1 1 p. M. Alarm. Three persons have 
been arrested who refused to make sandbags. 
They were pulled out of bed and carried off. 
Eight o'clock marched to drill. This lasts till ii. 
Then i to 4 rest. Six, physical drill and games. 
I went to the Cinema in the evening. 

July 6th. Inspection till eleven. Three hours 
standing in the sun — enough to drive me silly. 
Twenty-three men fell out. Three horses also 
affected by the heat. Eleven to one Parade 
march — in the sun. Thirty-six more men re- 
ported sick. I was very nearly one of them. 

July 9th. Preparation for departure. From 
seven to ten pack up kits. Eleven, roll-call. 
One-thirty, march to light railway. At seven 
reached firing trench. The English are firing 
intermittently over our heads; otherwise, all is 
quiet. We are now on the celebrated, much-be- 
written-about "Hill 60." Night passes without 
incident. 

July 1 2th. At three in the morning the enemy 
makes a gas attack. We put on respirators. 
Rifle in hand we leap from the trenches and as- 
sault. In front of Hill 60 the enemy breaks, and 
we come into possession of a trench. Rapid dig- 
ging. Counter-attack repulsed. At nine o'clock 

102 



Crumps 

all Is quiet, only the artillery still popping. This 
evening we are to be relieved. The 13 2d Regi- 
ment is much beloved by the English ! In a dug- 
out we found two labels. One of them had the 
following writing on it: "God strafe the 13 2d 
Regiment (not "God strafe England" this time). 
Sergeant Scott (?) Remington, Sewster Wall (.0-" 
On the other was, "I wish the Devil would take 
you, you pigs." 

At 7.20 Hill 60 is bombarded by artillery, and 
shakes thirty to fifty metres, as if from an earth- 
quake. Two English companies blown into the 
air — a terrible picture. Dug-outs, arms, equip- 
ment — all blown to bits. 

July 17th. Marched to new quarters. We 
have got a new captain. He wants to see the 
company, so at 8 a. m. drill in pouring rain. Four 
times we have to lie on our belly, and get wet 
through and through. All the men grumbling 
and cursing. At eleven we are dismissed. I, with 
a bad cold and a headache. I wish this soldiering 
were all over. 

July 19th. At seven sharp we marched off to 
our position. Heavy bombardment. At nine 
we were buried by a shell. I know no more. At 
eleven I found myself lying in the Field Hospital. 
I have pains inside me over my lungs; and head- 
ache, and burning in the joints. 

July 20th. The M.O. has had a look at me. 
He says my stomach and left lung are suffering 

103 



Crumps 

from the pressure which was put on them. The 
principal remedy is rest. 

July 2 1 St. Thirty-nine degrees of fever (temp. 
100° Fahr.). Stay in bed and sleep, and oh! how 
tired I am! 

July 22d. I slept all day. Had milk and white 
bread to eat. 

July 26th. Returned to duty with three days' 
exemption, i. e., we do not have any outdoor 
work. 

July 28th and 29th. Still on exemption. 
Nothing to do but sleep and think of home and 
of my dear wife and daughter. But dreaming 
does not bring peace any sooner. How I would 
love an hour or two back home. 

July 31st. In rest. Baths going. Duke of 
Wurttemberg passed through our camp. 

August 1st. Up to the trenches. Shrapnel 
flying like flies. A heavy bombardment; bom- 
bardment of Hooge. Second Battalion, 13 2d 
Regiment, sent up to reinforce 126th Regiment, 
which has already lost half its men. 

August 4th. Heavy artillery fire the whole 
night. The English are concentrating 50,000 
Indians on our front to attack Hooge and Hill 
60. Just let them come, we shall stand firm. 
At three marched off to the front. Watch be- 
ginning again. Five o'clock marched off to the 
Witches' Cauldron, Hooge. A terrible night 
again. H.E. and shrapnel without number. Oh, 

104 



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thrice-cursed- Hooge ! In one hour eleven killed 
and twenty-three wounded and the fire unceas- 
ing. It is enough to drive one mad, and we have 
to spend three days and three nights more. It 
is worse than an earthquake, and any one who has 
not experienced it can have no idea what it is 
like. The English fired a mine, a hole fifteen 
metres deep and fifty to sixty broad, and this 
"cauldron" has "to be occupied at night. At 
present it is n't too badly shelled. At every shot 
the dug-outs sway to and fro like a weather-cock. 
This life we have to stick to for months. One 
needs nerves of steel and iron. Now I must crawl 
into our hole, as trunks and branches of trees fly 
in our trench like spray. 

August 6th. To-night moved to the crater 
again, half running and half crawling. At seven 
a sudden burst of fire from the whole of the artil- 
lery. From about eleven yesterday fires as if 
possessed. This morning at four we fall back. 
We find the 126th have no communication with 
the rear, as the communication trenches have 
been completely blown in. The smoke and thirst 
are enough to drive one mad. Our cooker does n't 
come up. The 126th gives us bread and coffee 
from the little they have. If only it would stop ! 
We get direct hits one after another and lie in a 
sort of dead end, cut off from all communication. 
If only it were night. What a feeling to be think- 
ing every second when I shall get it! has 

105 



Crumps 

just fallen, the third man in our platoon. Since 
eight the fire has been unceasing; the earth 
shakes and we with it. Will God ever bring us 
out of this fire? I have said the Lord's Prayer 
and am resigned. 



To-day I saw the "Mound of Death" at 
Saint-Eloi; it has been mined a number of 
times, and thousands of shells have beaten it 
into a disorderly heap of earth; the trenches 
are twenty-five yards apart; all the grass and 
vegetation has been blown away and never 
has had time to grow up again. 

It's all arranged for you, if there's a bit 
of shell or a bullet with your name on it 
you'll get it, so you've nothing to worry 
about. You are a soldier — then be one. 
This is the philosophy of the trenches. 

War is a great ager. Young men grow old 
quickly here. It can be seen in their faces; 
they have lost all the irresponsibility of 
youth. I have met many men who have been 
here since Mons; they all look weary and 

io6 




WHAT'S THE USE?. 



Crumps 

worn out by the strain. Now new troops 
are coming forward and it is hoped that they 
will be able to send some back for a rest. 

Several days ago the adjutant of the 
Tenth Battalion Sherwood Foresters came 
to me with this message which was sent 
through our lines : — 

Arrest Officer Royal Engineers with orderly. 
Former, six feet, black moustache, web equip- 
ment, revolver. Latter, short, carries rifle, can- 
vas bandolier. Please warn transports and all 
concerned. 

Everybody kept a good lookout for these 
spies. One sentry surprised a real R.E. 
officer named Perkins who was working out 
a drainage scheme. Seeming to answer the 
above description, he stalked him, — "Come 

'ere, you , you 're the 1 've been 

looking for." The officer, nonplussed, com- 
menced to stutter. "Sergeant, I've got 'im 
and he can't speak a word of English." 
The sergeant collected him in and guarded 
him until another engineer officer, known to 
the guard, came along. As soon as Perkins 

107 



Crumps 

saw him, he said, "F-r-r-ed, t-t-tell this 
d-d-damn fool wh-ho I am." "Who the 
hell are you calling Fred? I don't know 
him; hold him, sergeant, he's a desperate 
one." Scarcely able to contain his joy, Fred 
went back to the Engineers' Camp to tell 
the great news and Perkins spent three hours 
in the sandbag dugout listening to a descrip- 
tion of what the sergeant and his guard 
would do to him if they only had their 
way. 

The real spies, who did a great deal of 
damage, were finally rounded up and shot in 
a listening post trying to regain their own 
lines. 

Enemy snipers give us a great deal of 
trouble. It is very difficult to locate them. 
One of our men tried out an original scheme. 
He put an empty biscuit tin on the para- 
pet. Immediately the sniper put a bullet 
through it. Now thought the Genius, "If 
I look through the two holes it will give me 
my direction," — so getting up on the fire- 

io8 



Crumps 

step he looked through, only to roll over 
with the top of his head smashed off by a 
bullet. The sniper was- shooting his initials 
on the tin. 

We are all used to dead bodies or pieces 
of men, so much so that we are not troubled 
by the sight of them. There was a right 
hand sticking out of the trench in the po- 
sition of a man trying to shake hands with 
you, and as the men filed out they would 
often grip it and say, "So long, old top, we'll 
be back again soon." One man had the 
misfortune to be buried in such a way that 
the bald part of the head showed. It had 
been there a long time and was sun-dried. 
Tommy used him to strike his matches on. 
A corpse in a trench is quite a feature, and is 
looked for when the men come back again 
to the same trench. 

We live mostly on bully beef and hard 
tack. The first is corned beef and the second 
is a kind of dog biscuit. We always won- 
dered why they were so particular about a 

109 



Crumps 

man's teeth in the army. Now I know. It's 
on account of these biscuits. The chief in- 
gredient is, I think, cement, and they taste 
that way too. To break them it is necessary 
to use the handle of your entrenching tool 
or a stone. We have fried, baked, mashed, 
boiled, toasted, roasted, poached, hashed, 
devilled them alone and together with bully 
beef, and we have still to find a way of making 
them into interesting food. 

However, the Boche likes our beef. He 
prefers the brand canned in Chicago to his 
own, and will almost sit up and beg if we 
throw some over to him. The method is as fol- 
lows : Throw one over . . . sounds of shufiling 
and getting out of the way are heard in the 
enemy trench. Fritz thinks it's going to go 
off. Pause, and throw another. Fritz not 
so suspicious this time. Keep on throwing 
until happy voices from enemy trenches 
shout, "More! Give us more!" Then lob 
over as many hand grenades as you can pile 
into that part of the trench and tell them to 
share those too. 

no 



Crumps 

It takes some time to distinguish whether 
shells are arrivals or departures, but after a 
while you get into the way of telling their 
direction and size by sound. Roads are 
constantly shelled, searching for troops or 
supply columns. I was coming home to-day, 
up a road which ran approximately at right 
angles to main fire trenches. At one place 
the road was exposed for a matter of thirty or 
forty feet, and again farther up it was neces- 
sary to go over the brow of a small hill. This 
was about three hundred yards farther on 
and was exposed to the enemy's view. Think- 
ing they would n't bother about a single 
rider on a motor cycle, I went up past the 
first exposed position. My carburetor was 
giving me some trouble and I thought I 
would see if any rain had got into it, so I 
turned oflF the road down a cross-road and 
dismounted whtn crash! a shell landed right 
in the middle of the road as far up the exposed 
place as I was round the corner. Then five 
more followed the first shell. Had I gone 
on I could not possibly have missed collecting 

III 



Crumps 

most of the fragments. The German gunners 
had spotted me in the first position and de- 
cided that a lone man on a motor cycle must 
be either an ofiicer or despatch rider. So 
they tried to get him. The shells were shrap- 
nel and the time was calculated splendidly. 
They had taken into consideration the speed 
of my motor cycle. Cross-roads are particu- 
larly attended to, for there is a double chance 
of hitting something, and in consequence it 
is always unhealthy to linger on a cross- 
road. 

Dugouts are often made very comfortable 
with windows, tiled floors and furniture taken 
from neighboring shattered chateaux. I have 
even seen them with flowers growing in win- 
dow-boxes over the entrance. They all have 
names. Some I saw yesterday were called 
"Anti-Krupp Cottage," ''Pleasant View," 
and "Little Grey Home in the West." There 
was one very homey site, well equipped and 
fitted, which had been dubbed the "Nut," — 
the colonel lived there. 

I 12 



Crumps 

My old corps brought an aeroplane down 
with a machine gun last night. They were 
in a shell hole between the main and support 
trenches. 

For the last few days I have been "up" 
looking for gun positions. 

The lice are getting to be a torment. You 
have no idea how bad they are. Everybody 
up here is infested with them. I have tried 
smearing myself with kerosene, but that 
does not seem to trouble them at all. Silk 
underwear is supposed to keep them down. 
I suppose their feet slip on the shiny surface. 

The food lately has taken on a wonderful 
flavor and I now know how dissolved Ger- 
man tastes. The cook, instead of sending 
back two miles for water to cook with, has 
been using water from the moat in which a 
Boche had been slowly disintegrating. 

To-day I was able to see what a German 
seventeen-inch shell could do; one had made 
a crater fifty feet across and twenty feet 
deep in the middle of the road. The top of 
the road was paved — think it over — and 

113 



Crumps 

pieces kill at a thousand yards. Thirty 
horses were buried in another hole. 

I have been given a special job by the 
general to enfilade a wood over the Mound. 
I have my section now in the second-line 
trenches waiting till it is dark before making 
a move. We have to make a machine-gun 
emplacement in a piece of ground which is 
decidedly unhealthy to visit during daylight. 
I have been there in daylight, but I had to 
creep out of it. On the map it is called a 
farm, but the highest wall is only three feet 
six inches high. 

Arrived home about two o'clock this 
morning. We crawled to the place we have 
to take up, and I put some men filling sand- 
bags in the ruins and others even digging a 
dugout. The enemy had "the wind up" and 
were using a great number of star shells. 
When one goes up we all "freeze," remain mo- 
tionless, or lie still. They send them up to see 
across their front, and if they locate a work- 

114 



Crumps 

ing party, then they start playing a tune 
with their machine guns. Bullets and shells 
whistled through the trees all the time. They 
seemed to come from all directions. The men 
did n't like it at all. I was n't altogether 
comfortable myself, but an officer must 
keep going. I walked about and joked and 
laughed with them. The range-taker said, 
''Some of us are getting the didley-i-dums, 
Sir." I don't know what that is, but I had 
a feeling that I had them too. 

Of course, to start with, everybody thinks 
every single shell and bullet is coming 
straight for him. Then you find out how 
much space there is around you. One man 
came to tell me that two men were firing at 
him with his own rifle from the ruins of the 
alleged farmhouse, ten yards away from the 
dugout we are making. Just then a field 
mouse squeaked, and he jumped up in the 
air and said, "There's another." I told 
the men to fill sandbags from the ruins; 
they all crowded behind this three-foot-six 
wall for protection; they dug up a French 

115 



Crumps 

needle bayonet — that was all right, but they 
afterwards dug up a rifle and I noticed a 
suspicious smell, so I moved them. 

We came home very tired. We are attack- 
ing Hooge, a counter-attack, to take back 
trenches lost in the liquid fire attack — you 
will hear what we did from the papers, 
probably in three months' time. 

I'm writing this in a new home, this time 
a splinter-proof dugout. The Huns are again 
strafing us — last shell burst fifty yards away 
a few minutes ago. Several times since I 
started writing I have had to shake off the 
dust and debris thrown by shell bursts on to 
these pages. I was again sniped at with shrap- 
nel this morning on my machine while recon- 
noitering the roads — they all missed, but 
they 're not nice. I 'm filthy, alive, and covered 
with huge mosquito bites ; you get sort of used 
to the incessant din in time. Even the forty- 
two centimeter shells, which make a row like 
freight trains with loose couplings going 
through the air, are not so terrible now. 

ii6 



Crumps 

Through a hole in my dugout I can see the 
Huns' shells Kulturlng a chateau. It was 
once a very beautiful place with a moat, 
bridges, and splendid gardens. Now it's 
useless except that the timber and the fur- 
niture come in useful for our dugouts and 
the making of "duck walks," the grated 
walks which line the bottom of the trenches. 
Last night I was sitting in the Medical 
Officer's dugout when a man I knew came 
in. He was an officer in the Second Gor- 
dons. "I feel pretty bad, doc." He ex- 
plained his symptoms. "Trench fever; you 
go down the line." "No, fix me up for to- 
night and maybe I won't need anything 
else." He didn't! All that is left of him is 
being buried now, less than a hundred yards 
from where I write this. 

Before I came here I had to go to another 
part of the line, in which the "Princess Pats" 
distinguished themselves. We have been 
hanging on ever since, and a mighty stiff 
proposition it is. The O.C. to-day told me 

117 



Crumps 

that he had not slept for fifty-six hours. The 
Germans in one place are only twenty-five 
yards away — so close that conversation is 
carried on in a whisper. 

In one place they had stuck up a board 
with "Warsaw Captured" on it. 

My section worked until two o'clock and 
then the sandbags gave out, so we had to 
come home. This was a disappointment to 
me. I wanted to get the job finished. My 
men went on filling sandbags from the same 
place last night and discovered the remains 
of the late owner of the sword bayonet. He 
has now been decently buried, with a little 
wooden cross marked — 

TO AN UNKNOWN FRENCH SOLDIER 
R.I.P. 

When you read in the newspapers, that a 
trench was lost or taken, just think what it 
means. Think what happens to the men 
in the trenches; that's the part of it we see. 
Stretchers pass by all day. Since I have 
been here the cemetery has grown — a new 

ii8 




A FRENCH SOLDIER 



Crumps 

mound — a simple wooden cross. Nobody 
talks about it, but everybody wonders who's 
next. The men here are splendid, the best 
in the world, and the officers are gentlemen. 

We have moved to the famous Langhof 
Chateau on the Lille road. This is supposed to 
have belonged to Hennessey of " Three Star" 
fame, but the Germans had been through the 
wine cellars. We looked very, very carefully, 
but only found empties. My batman has 
made me comfortable. I 'm writing this on a 
washstand; in front of me I have a bunch 
of roses in a broken vase. My trench coat 
is hanging on a nail from a coat-hanger. A 
large piece of broken wardrobe mirror has 
been nailed up to a beam for my use. One 
of the men just came in to ask if a trousers 
press would be of any use. We have a fine 
little bureau cupboard of carved oak; we 
use this for the rations. A pump, repaired 
with the leather from a German helmet, has 
been persuaded to work and has been busy 
ever since. The roof of my cellar is arched 

119 



Crumps 

brick and has a few tons of fallen debris on 
the floor upstairs. That strengthens it. It 
is shored up from inside with rafters. This 
makes the roof shell-proof, except for big 
shells, and the enemy always use big shells. 
The cellar floors are concrete. 

It is very strange the lightness with which 
serious things are taken by men here, and it 
took me some time to understand it. I met 
a young captain of the Royal Marine Artil- 
lery who was in charge of a battery of trench 
mortars. He was telling me of how one of his 
mortars and the crew were wiped out by a 
direct hit. He referred to it as though he 
had just missed his train. 

Two days later I went up with the 
Machine-Gun Ofiicer of the Second Gor- 
dons to look at a piece of ground. To get 
there we had to crawl on our hands and 
knees. In one part of our journey we came 
to a sunken road. The day was fine, so 
we lay there. He asked me about Canada. 
He wanted to know something about the 
settler's grant. He said: "Of course you 

120 



Crumps 

know after a chap has been out here in the 
open, it will be impossible to go back again 
to office life." I boosted Canada and sud- 
denly the irony of the situation occurred to 
me. Here we were lying down in a road 
quite close to the German lines, so close that 
it would be suicide to even stand up, and 
yet here we were calmly discussing the mer- 
its of Canadian emigration. I commented on 
this and he replied: "My dear fellow, when 
you have been out as long as I have, you 
will come to realize that being at the front 
is a period of intense boredom punctuated 
by periods of intense fear, and that if you 
allow yourself to be carried away by depres- 
sion it will be your finish." He had been out 
since just after Mons. 

I remembered this and I found that the 
nonchalant and care-free attitude of the av- 
erage British officer was really a mask and 
simulated to keep his mind off the whole 
beastly business: this great big dirty job 
which white people must do. 



121 



Crumps 

I was sitting one afternoon by the side of 
the canal bank about two hundred yards 
in front of my chateau having tea with the 
officers of the East Yorks when suddenly 
the chateau-smashing started again. To go 
back was dangerous and useless. My men 
were under cover, resting, so that they 
would be ready for the night work. The 
shelling was intermittent. One shell went 
over and presently I heard cracky — crack, — 
boom, crack, crack, — crack; my heart was in 
my boots and I was unable to move. 

The colonel listened for a few seconds, 
then said: "Keene, do you know what that 
is?" I lied: "No, sir." I thought it was 
the explosion of my machine-gun bullets in 
their web belts and I dreaded to go up to see 
my section. I had worked with them and 
tried hard to be a good officer and the feel- 
ing that I should probably only find their 
mangled remains sickened me. The colonel 
said: "That's the 'Archie' in Bedford House. 
I think the last ' crump ' got it. You two " — 
indicating myself and another officer — "go 

122 



Crumps 

up and see if we can do anything. See if 
they want a working party and let me 
know." 

We started to run. On the way up I 
looked into the cellars to see the men whom 
I, the minute previously, had mourned for, 
and found two asleep, three hunting through 
their shirts, and the rest breaking the army 
orders by "shooting craps," From Bedford 
House a long trail of smoke was rising and 
the explosions became louder. We suddenly 
discovered the "Archie" in flames. It was 
in the courtyard and for camouflage had 
been covered with branches. It was mounted 
on an armored Pierce-Arrow truck. The 
"crump" had hit it, and gasoline, paint, 
branches, and hubs were supplying the fuel 
which was cooking out the ammunition, the 
cracky cracky being the report of single shells, 
whereas one loud boom signified the explosion 
of an entire box. These shells were going off 
in all directions and it became dangerous to 
stay too near. 

The flames on the car were of pretty colors. 
123 



Crumps 

It IS surprising the amount of inflammable 
material there is on a car. The late owner 
of the car, a lieutenant in the Royal Marine 
Artillery, was cursing in a low, but emphatic, 
marine manner, and several other officers 
from nearby batteries were attracted by the 
noise and the pyrotechnic display. I spoke 
to the lieutenant and sympathized with him, 
and he retorted: ^'Gott strafe Germany. 
Why they should hit the *bus' when I have 
a brand-new pair of trench boots that I had 
never worn, I dunno." Just then and there 
the case cooked out and a piece of shell cut 
between us and buried itself deep in the sup- 
port of a dugout, so we got under cover. 

In the group was a splendid type of army 
chaplain. He came over almost at the start 
of the war and had seen a great deal of the 
open warfare at the commencement of 
hostilities. He said: "My friend Fritz is 
not through; he'll try to do some more yet." 
As the smoke died down and the cracking 
stopped, the enemy decided that an attempt 
would be made either to carry out salvage 

124 




WHIZ-BANGS " 



Crumps 

of whatever they had hit or else we would 
try to get the wounded away. So without 
any preliminary warning the whole area was 
covered by a battery fire of whiz bangs, 
and the shrapnel bullets came down like 
rain, several men being hit. The fire event- 
ually died down and the wreck was allowed 
to cool off. The "Archies" are used so 
much to keep the aeroplanes up, and next 
to the loss of his boots the officer in charge 
was worried by the fact that the enemy 
would send an aeroplane over to see what 
they had hit. It was very necessary to 
keep the planes away, because at this time 
there were one hundred and fourteen bat- 
teries of artillery in the neighborhood. 

Later on the battery commander came 
down, and as he looked at the red-hot armor 
plates he said: "Five thousand pounds gone 
up in smoke. Sorry I missed the fireworks." 
The Divisional general called him up at the 
dugout and gave him areas for the distribu- 
tion of the four anti-aircraft guns and cars 
comprising his battery. After he was through 

125 



Crumps 

the commander replied: ''Very good, sir, that 
will be done with all the guns except the 
third gun." The voice over the wire became 
very dignified, a preliminary to becoming 
sulphuric. "What do you mean, all but 
the third gun?" "Because, sir, the enemy 
has just 'crumped' the third gun and all 
that remains of it is scrap iron." 

One of the battalions has a fine victrola 
in the ofiicers' mess dugout with a good 
selection of records. I have heard Caruso 
accompanied on the outside by an orchestra 
of guns. It was a wonderful mixture. 
Speaking of canned music reminds me we 
have a small portable trench machine, 
which closes up like a valise, easily handled 
and carried about. One man near had a 
box full of needles distributed in his back 
by a bomb; he considers himself disgraced; 
he says it will be kind of foolish in years to 
come to show his grandchildren twenty-five 
or thirty needles and tell them that they 
were the cause of his wounds. 

The Tommies play mouth organs a great 
126 



Crumps 

deal and it is much easier to march to the 
sound of one, even 

'Ere we are; 'ere we are, 

'Ere we are agin. 
We beat 'em on the Mame, 
We beat 'em on the Aisne, 
We gave 'em 'ELL at Neuve Chapelle, 

And 'ere we are agin — 

sounds well with the addition of a little 
music. 

Anything is used for trench work; often 
if we waited for the proper materials we 
should be uncomfortable, so it is one of 
the qualifications of a good soldier to find 
things. Sometimes we steal material be- 
longing to other units, then stick around 
until the owners come back and help them 
look for them; however, it is always ad- 
visable to steal materials from juniors in 
rank; if they find it out, and are senior, 
then you are in for a one-sided strafe. 

One of the other battery subalterns found 

a deserted carpenter's shop and he let his 

men loose to dismantle it. They took the 

parts of steel machines and used them for 

127 



Crumps 

the construction of a dugout. One man 
said, "It's like coming home drunk and 
smashing up the grand piano with an axe." 
They must have attracted the attention of 
the ever-alert Boche, for no sooner had they 
moved out than the place was shelled to 
the ground. Everything I now look at 
with an eye to its value for trench construc- 
tion; thus, telegraph poles, doors, iron 
girders, and rails are more valuable to us 
out here than a Rolls Royce. 

Slang or trench language is used univer- 
sally. My own general talks about "Wipers," 
the Tommy's pronunciation of Ypres, and 
I have seen a reference to "Granny" (the 
fifteen-inch howitzer) in orders "mother" is 
the name given to the twelve-inch howitzer. 
The trench language is changing so quickly 
that I think the staff in the rear are unable 
to keep up to date, because they have re- 
cently issued an order to the effect that 
slang must not be used in official corre- 
spondence. Now instead of reporting that 

128 




THE "CRUMP 



Crumps 

a "dud Minnie" arrived over back of "mud 
lane," it is necessary to put, "I have the 
honor to report that a projectile from a 
German Minnenwerfer landed in rear of 
Trench F 26 and failed to explode." 

Sometimes names of shells go through 
several changes. For example, high explosives 
in the early part of the war were called "black 
Marias," that being the slang name for the 
English police patrol wagon. Then they 
were called "Jack Johnsons," then "coal 
boxes," and finally they were christened 
"crumps" on account of the sound they 
make, a sort of cru-ump! noise as they 
explode. "Rum jar" is the trench mortar. 
"Sausage" is the slow-going aerial torpedo, 
a beastly thing about six feet long with fins 
like a torpedo. It has two hundred and ten 
pounds of high explosive and makes a terrible 
hole. "Whiz bang" is shrapnel. 

.Shelling is continuous. We have thousands 
of pieces of shells and fuse caps about the 
premises. I have in front of me a fragment 
of a shell about fourteen inches long and 

129 



Crumps 

about four and one-half inches across, which 
came from a German gun. The edges are 
so sharp that it cuts your hand to hold it. 
I use it as a paper-weight. 

This morning I experienced a wonderful 
surprise. I had gone up to one of the North 
Stafford Batteries to borrow a clinometer. 
The major, while he was getting the instru- 
ment for me, casually remarked: "There's 
yesterday's 'Times' on the bench if you care 
to look at it." I turned first to the casualty 
list and later to the "London Gazette" for 
the promotions, and wholly by accident 
perused carefully the Motor Machine Gun 
Service list and there noted the announce- 
ment, "Keene, Louis, 2d Lieut., to be 1st 
Lieut.," and for a fact this was the "official" 
intimation that I had been promoted. I had 
a couple of spare "pips", rank stars, in my 
pocket-book, so I got my corporal to sew 
them on right away. 

We are all very happy at times, very dirty, 
and covered with stings and bites; have no 

130 



Crumps 

idea how long we are to remain up. Getting 
used to the shell fire, and can sleep through 
it if it's not too close. When it comes near 
it makes you very thoughtful. Still working 
at night and resting during the day. Made 
another emplacement for one of my machine 
guns last night; had twenty men digging; 
surprising how fast men dig when the bullets 
are flying. 

It's about 2 A.M. We have just come in. 
My new emplacement is splendid; we've 
made it shell-proof and have it ready for 
firing. I was coming home this afternoon 
after having been to the fire trenches when 
I heard a shout: "Keene!" I looked up on 
the canal bank and I saw the general with 
one of his A.D.C.'s sitting watching an 
aeroplane duel. "I've come up to see your 
gun position, Keene." I saluted, waited 
for him, and took him to it. It is below the 
level of the ground under tons of bricks in 
the ruins of a farmhouse. He was standing 
on the roof of it and said, "Well, where 's the 

131 



Crumps 

emplacement?" "You 're standing on it, sir." 
*'Tut, tut, 'pon my word, that's good." He 
was delighted and congratulated me on it. 
My preliminary work under the eyes of the 
general has gone off quite well. I start 
firing to-night. 

Intimacy between generals and lieutenants 
is unusual, but it looks as if mine had taken 
an interest in me, because when he noticed 
my insect-bitten face, he sent me down some 
dope he had used with good effect in India. 
I expect the mosquitoes in India were the 
ordinary kind, but, believe me, trench 
"skeeters" are constructed differently and 
are proof against the general's pet concoction. 

I have several miners in my section who 
take a personal pride in the digging and 
shoring up of dugouts. So far the other 
two sections of the Battery are always 
behind in this work but they may look 
better on parade. 

The canal has one big lock suitable for 
swimming; a lot of "jocks" were bathing 
there to-day. I ordered a bathing parade 

132 



Crumps 

for my section. Later I found that the 
swimming had livened three Germans, long 
submerged — the bathing parade is off. 

A Belgian battery commander has just 
wakened up and his shells are rattling over- 
head. From the fire trenches an incessant 
rattle of rifles is heard; all the bullets seem 
to come over here; constantly the whine of 
a musical ricochet bullet is heard. Other- 
wise things are dead quiet. It's getting on 
for three, so I 'm going to bed in my blankets 
on one of the late chateau owner's splendid 
spring mattresses and carved oak bedstead. 
Oh! how nice it would be to sleep without 
lice. From an adjoining cellar my section 
are snoring, and I'm going to add to the 
chorus. Good-night, everybody. 

We have been having Sunday "hate." 
Eight-inch crumps are once more busting 
"up" the chateau. How they must detest 
this place. My tea and bully beef are 
covered with dust of the last shell. You 
have no idea how terrible the shell-fire is. 

^33 



Crumps 

First you hear the whistle and then a ter- 
rific burst which shakes the ground for a 
hundred yards around; when it clears away 
you find a hole ten feet across and six feet 
deep. At least fifteen have dropped around 
us in the last half hour. 

This place is n't somewhere in France, it's 
somewhere in Hell! It has been the scene 
of a great many encounters; decayed French 
uniforms, old rifles, ammunition and leather 
equipment and bundles of mildewed tobacco 
leaves are strewn all over the place. I 
found the chin-strap of a German "Pickel- 
haube" in the grounds, the helmet of a 
French cuirassier, and the red pants of a 
Zouave, close together. When digging in the 
trenches or anywhere near the firing line 
you have to be careful: corpses, dead horses, 
and cattle are buried everywhere. I'm 
building a trench to my emplacement and 
we have a stinking cow in the direct line; 
this will have to be buried before we can cut 
through. 

Everybody is cheerful and going strong. 
134 



Crumps 

Yesterday some of my men went swim- 
ming in the moat of the chateau; a shell 
dropped in the water near them, and threw 
up a lot of fish on to the bank. That kind 
of discouraged the Tommies swimming, so 
they cooked the fish and decided that safety 
comes before cleanliness out here. 

It's hot and sticky, and when you have 
to wear thick clothes and equipment it makes 
you very uncomfortable, but it's all in the 
game. 

All through the night we fired single shots 
from a machine gun; my orders were to fire 
between half-past eight at night and four 
o'clock in the morning. We have a number 
of guns doing this. It harasses the enemy 
and keeps them from sleeping; anything 
that will wear a man down is practiced 
here. 

I've constructed a fire emplacement 
amongst the ruins underground; to get to 
it you have to travel through a tunnel 
eighteen feet long; inside it's very damp. I 
was working with my corporal, crouched up; 

US 



Crumps 

we were both wet and cold, and so to cheer 
things up every now and again we let off a 
few rounds and warmed our hands on the 
barrel. Outside it poured with rain, and 
mosquitoes sought refuge inside and mealed 
off me. The corporal was immune. I had 
a water bottle full of whiskey and water. 
We used it to keep out the cold, but it wasn't 
strong enough. In a case like that you need 
wood alcohol. I would like to have had some 
Prohibitionists with me here. We had no 
light except the flash of the gun and the 
enemy star shells. 

At daybreak I came home dead beat. I 
got into my cellar, was so tired that I threw 
myself down on the bed and wrapped myself 
up in my blankets, boots, mud, lice and all. 
I had n't been asleep long before the Huns 
started "hating" the chateau. They have 
put over twenty-five large calibre shells into 
my place, the grounds and the house. They 
are still at it. Every time a shell bursts it 
makes a hole big enough to bury five horses, 
and it shakes the foundations all round. The 

136 



Crumps 

shells are bigger than usual. The smoke 
and earth are blown up fifty or sixty feet 
in the air. The effect is a moral disruption. 
Why can't they keep that cotton out of Germany ? 

I have divided my section up into two 
teams, one in the cellars and one in the gun- 
pits. I relieve them every twenty-four 
hours, and I practically have to be in both 
places at once, but I have got a telephone in 
between the two places. I have it by my bed 
so that I can constantly know how things are 
going. However, the wire Is cut two or three 
times a day by bullets and shell splinters, my 
linesman has a constant job. 

Fired all night; came back at six o'clock 
this morning, very tired. Had a telegram 
from the general to fire two thousand 
rounds in twenty-four hours; this is quite 
hard work. Actually we could fire the lot 
in five minutes, but it would attract too 
much attention. The enemy use whole bat- 
teries of artillery to blot out machine guns 
which attract attention, so we have to fire 
single shots. 

137 



Crumps 

We have for neighbors four dead cows and 
an unexploded six-inch shell, liable to go off 
any time, all in a radius of one hundred yards. 
We have smashed holes through five walls 
so that we can go through the ruins un- 
observed. In one place we pass over a dead 
cow, and in another we wade through several 
tons of rotten potatoes, and I believe we 
have a corpse handy; and part of our 
trench goes through another heap of rotten 
mangles. I'm an authority on smells. I 
can almost tell the nationality of a corpse now 
by the smell. It will soon be necessary to 
wear our smoke-helmets to go into the em- 
placement. I don't think that I have told 
you that I cross the Yser canal about six 
times a day. I'd been up a week before I 
knew what it was. Now it only has a few feet 
of water in it, the rest being held in the Ger- 
man locks. The part I cross over is full of 
bulrushes, and is the home of moor-hens, 
water rats, mosquitoes and frogs. 

On one side of the canal is a bank which is 
in great demand by the machine gunners, who 

138 



Crumps 

are able to get a certain amount of height 
and observation of their fire. The general 
has ordered a field gun to take up a position 
on this bank. He refers to it as his "Snip- 
ing eighteen-pounder." It is firing at seven 
hundred yards right at the German line and 
smashes up their parapet in a style that is 
pretty to watch. The machine gunners are 
in a great state, because the enemy will soon 
be "searching" with his artillery for the 
eighteen-pounder and the lairs of the smaller 
hidden guns will suffer. 

The men are hunting for lice in their under- 
wear. This is the kind of conversation that 
is coming through from the next cellars: 
"I've got you beat — that's forty-seven." 
"Wait a minute" — a sound of tearing cloth 
— "but look at this lot, mother and young." 
"With my forty and these you '11 have to find 
some more." They were betting on the 
number they could find. I peel off my shirt 
myself and burn them off with a candle. I 
glory in the little pop they make when the 
heat gets to them. All the insect powder 

139 



Crumps 

in the world has been tried out on them 
and they've won. 

All sentries here are doubled; one thing it's 
safer, and another it's company; even when 
things are quiet, rats and mice scamper about 
and it sets your nerves on end. Things which 
are inanimate during the day become alive 
at night. Trees seem to walk about. I 
wonder what it tastes like to have a real 
meal in which tinned food does not figure; 
fancy a tablecloth; my tablecloth is a double 
sheet of newspaper, and even then I can't 
have a new one every day. 

Had a good night's rest; came in about 
twelve o'clock and slept until eight-thirty 
this morning. One eye is completely closed 
up by a sting. 

A German aeroplane has been hovering 
over our positions looking for my gun, so 
we have stopped firing and all movement. 
I know just how the chicken feels when the 
hawk hovers over it. Few people realize 
how much aeroplanes figure in this war, 

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for war would be much different without 
them. They do the work of Cavalry only 
in the sky. Whenever they come over, 
the sentries blow three blasts on their 
whistles and everybody runs for cover or 
freezes; guns stop firing and are covered 
up with branches made on frames. If men 
are caught in the open they stand perfectly 
still and do not look up, for on the aeroplane 
photographs faces at certain heights show 
light; dugouts are covered over with trees, 
straw or grass. We use aeroplane photo- 
graphs a great deal; they show trenches 
distinctly and look very like the canals on 
Mars. 

The Huns have been "hating" the road 
one quarter of a mile away all the morning, i 
That does n't worry us a bit as long as they 
don't come any closer. I'm willing always 
to share up on the shelling. 

This order has just been issued. It speaks 
for itself: — 

All ranks are warned that bombs and grenades 
must not be used for fishing and killing game. 
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Crumps 

I went over another farm to-day. It is 
one of the well-ventilated kind, punched 
full of holes. In the kitchen, stables and 
outhouses there was a most wonderful col- 
lection of junk: ammunition, British and 
French bandoliers, old sheepskin coats aban- 
doned by the British troops from last winter, 
smashed rifles, bayonets, meat tins, parts of 
broken equipment, sandbags, stacks of rotten 
potatoes and three dead cows. The fruit 
trees are laden with fruit, and vines are grow- 
ing up the houses with their bunches of green 
grapes. 

In the garden several lonely graves are 
piled high with old boots, straw, American 
agricultural implements, rotting sacks and 
rubbish of every description, pieces of shells, 
barrels, and in one room the rusty remains 
of a perambulator and sewing machine; rats 
are the only inhabitants now. In the garret 
(the staircase leading up to it gone long ago) 
I found a British rifle, bayonet fixed, ten 
rounds in the magazine, and the bolt partly 
drawn out. Evidently the owner was in the 

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act of reloading his chamber when something 
happened. The graves were dated second 
and third months of this year. The poor 
wooden crosses were made of pieces of ration 
cases and the names written with an in- 
delible pencil. The wretchedness of this 
farm, which was flourishing only a short 
time ago, is very pathetic. 

We have adopted an old Belgian mother 
cat with her family of three kittens in the 
dugout. Now we find that three more little 
wild kittens are living in the bricks which 
we have piled around the windows to protect 
us against shells. They are all encouraged to 
live with us in the cellars. I like cats, and 
they will help to keep the rats down. Al- 
though some of the rats are nearly the size 
of cats. 

It has been raining again and the trenches 
are filling up with slush. We carry a big 
trench stick, a thick sapling about four feet 
long with a ferrule made from a cartridge of 
a "very-light" (star shell), to help ourselves 
in walking; our feet are beginning to get 

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wet and cold as a regular thing now, and we 
are revetting our trenches firm and solid for 
the winter. Eleven p. m. A mine under the 
Boche line has just been exploded. The 
fighting has just started for the crater. 

I took a German Uhlan helmet from a 
gentleman who had no further use for it. It 
was pretty badly knocked about; still, if I 
can get it home it's a trophy. 

It's about eight o'clock Sunday evening. 
All day long shells have been coming over like 
locomotives. Every five seconds one goes 
over into the old town; every five seconds 
for the last two hours. The chateau has 
been shelled again with "crumps"; they are 
such rotten shots ; if only they would put in 
two good ones in the center it would blow it 
to bits and then they might leave us alone. 
The whole of the ground is pitted because 
they can't hit it squarely. 

My work lies behind the front line and in 
front of the support, firing over the heads of 

144 




MR. TOMMY ATKINS 



Crum 



ps 



the men in the main trenches. The emplace- 
ment was shelled to-day; one shell hit the 
roof, burst and knocked over one of my men, 
cutting his head open. He is not very badly 
hurt, but has gone to the hospital. The 
shelling has been terrible to-day. 

The Germans have been very quiet lately, 
and working parties are out all along their 
front lines at night — something 's up. Dirty 
work can be expected at any time now. We 
have steel helmets to protect us from spent 
bullets and splinters. They look like the 
old Tudor steel helmets and they are fine 
to wash in. 

You have no idea what a big part food 
plays in our life. Yesterday morning I went 
with the machine-gun officer of another outfit 
to crawl about looking for positions. We 
were in an orchard. I happened to look up 
and saw ripe plums ! Terrified lest he should 
see them and forestall me, I said, "Let's 
beat it, this is too unhealthy," so we crawled 
back. Last night in the light of a big moon 
such as coons always steal watermelons by, 

145 



Crumps 

a section officer and his cook crawled to the 
plum tree. The section officer, being large, 
stood underneath while the cook climbed the 
tree and dropped them into a sandbag held 
open by the S.O. They got about ten 
pounds. They go well stewed, believe me. 
The fact that bullets whistled through the 
trees most of the time made them taste 
better to-day. Sat the rest of the night in a 
hedge firing at the Boches with a Lewis gun. 
I struck for bed just as dawn broke. 

To-day the guns are again "hating" the 
chateau, and they have put sixty shells in 
the neighborhood. Still, "there's no cloud 
without a silver lining." I've got a new 
way home. Instead of going right around 
the kennels, stables, and through the yards, 
I go "through" the greenhouse direct, 
thereby saving a lot of time. The Huns' 
calendar is wrong. They have always shelled 
me Sunday and Wednesday. To-day 's 
Tuesday ! 

We use up the window frames and door- 
146 



Crumps 

ways for kindling, and consequently the 
doors have gone long ago. I have been 
smashing up mouldings this morning with an 
axe. We prefer the dry wood which is built 
into the walls ; it burns better and does n't 
cause smoke. As soon as smoke is seen rising, 
the enemy's range-finders get busy and then 
we suffer. 

Another^mine went up yesterday; nobody 
seems to know where. I think it came south 
from the French lines; it'i'rocked the whole 
neighborhood for miles. The ground here is 
a kind of quicksand for a few feet down, and 
shock is easily transmitted, the whole ground 
being honeycombed with mines, old trenches, 
shafts, saps made by French, Belgians, Ger- 
mans and our own people. 

The use for timber of any description is 
manifold; every little bit is used up. Our 
chief source of supply of dry wood is from 
the smashed-up chateaux. Langhof,myhome, 
has been punished almost every day, and 
after the bombardment lets up men from the 
neighborhood come to collect the wood torn 
147 



Crumps 

up by the shelling. The men of the Tenth 
East Yorks came up this morning and 
climbed to the remains of the second story, 
ripping up the floor boards. The enemy 
evidently saw them, for the shelling soon 
started. We have been shelled often here 
before, but it was nothing compared to this. 
The shells were carefully placed and came 
over with disgusting regularity. The build- 
ings rocked and the whole neighborhood 
shook. Fountains of bricks, mortar, and 
dirt were spewed up into the air. Trees 
were torn to shreds, a wall in front of me 
was hit — and disappeared, a lead statue of 
Apollo in the garden was hurled through the 
air and landed fifty yards away crumpled 
up against the balustrade of the moat. 

We were in our cellars, and gradually the 
shelling crept up towards us. Slowly a 
solemn dread which soon moulded into a 
sordid fear took possession of my being. In 
a flash I began to devise a philosophy of 
death for my chances were fading with^every 
crash. I took out my pocketbook, containing 

148 



Crumps 

some letters from my mother and some per- 
sonal things, and put them on one of the 
beams, so that, being in another part of the 
building, they might perhaps be found some 
day. The shelling continued and shells 
dropped completely round the cellars, de- 
molishing nearly everything in sight. The 
enemy evidently wanted to obliterate the 
whole place. The smell of the smoke and 
the dirt from the debris was choking, and 
every minute we expected to be our last. 
Suddenly it stopped. Philosophy and fear 
disappeared simultaneously as I sputtered 
out a choking laugh of relief. Then 
Hawkins, my servant, in a scared voice 
started, and the others joined in, singing 
the old marching refrain of the Training 
Camps : — 

"Hail, hail, the gang's all here, 
What the hell do we care! 
What the hell do we care! 
Hail, hail, the gang's all here, 
What the hell do we care now! " 

When a man has lived night after night in 
a trench, he gradually finds it quite possible 
149 



Crumps 

to snatch a good night's sleep. In other 
words, it is merely a case of becoming ac- 
climated to rackets, smells and food. I had 
always been able to sleep, but on the night 
following the bombardment of the chateau I 
just could not doze off. I thrashed about 
continuously, and while in this restless state 
harbored the notion that trouble was brew- 
ing for me. Every one has had that feeling, 
the feeling that hangs in your bones and 
warns you to watch out. Well, that is how 
I felt. 

At last the sun rose and with it came a 
beautiful morning, warm and sunny. I 
walked out amongst the ruins to see the ex- 
tent of the damage caused by the shelling of 
the previous day. I was waiting for the stew 
which was cooking on a little fire near the 
side of the cellar. The "dixie" was resting 
on two old bayonets, and they in turn rested 
on bricks at either side. Towards noon a 
big shell came over and landed in the moat, 
covering everything around with a coat of 
evil-smelling, black mud. This shell was fol- 

150 



Crumps 

lowed by another, arriving m the part of the 
ruins where once a cow-shed stood. I was 
talking to Hawkins, my batman, when I saw 
him dive across my front and fall flat on his 
face. At the same time I was in the center 
of an explosion, a great flame of light and 
then bricks, wood and cement flew in all 
directions. For a few seconds I thought I 
was dead, then I picked myself up and saw 
that blood was pouring down the front of my 
jacket. I followed up the stream and found 
that my right hand was smashed and hanging 
limp. My men rushed out and I told them 
it was nothing, but promptly fell in a heap. 
When I came to, my hand was wrapped up 
in an emergency bandage, and a stretcher 
was coming down from Bedford House, an 
advanced dressing-station, the next house 
back. To the delight of the men who were 
carrying it, I waved them away and told 
them I could walk. Assisted up to the dress- 
ing-station by one of my men, I made it. I 
then made a discovery. A soldier is a man 
until he's hit, then he's a case. I first had 
151 



Crumps 

an injection of "anti-tetanus" in the side, 
and the fact was recorded on a label tied to 
my left-hand\op pocket button. The doctor 
tied me up, then said: "You'll soon be all 
right. Will you have a bottle of English 
beer or a drop of whiskey?" I had the whis- 
key. I needed it. All the time I was there 
the wounded poured in. Seeing them I felt 
ashamed to be there with only a smashed 
hand. A corporal came in with both hands 
blown off and fifty-six other wounds. He 
had tried to save the men in his bay by throw- 
ing back a German bomb and it had gone off 
in his hands. Hawkins came up later on 
with my helmet and the fuse head of the shell 
which blew me up. We were all collected 
together and waited in the dugouts of the 
dressing station until dusk. Several shells 
came close to us. I tried to write to my 
mother with my left hand, so that when she 
received the War Office cable she would 
know I was able to write. 

Dusk came, then night, and finally the 
Ford ambulance cars which were to take us 
152 



Crumps 

out of Hell. It was a beautiful night. Bel- 
gium looked lovely. The merciful night had 
thrown a veil over the war scars on the land 
and a moon was shining. I was told to sit up 
in the seat with the driver. We traveled 
along one road, then the shelling became so 
bad that the drivers decided to go back and 
take another road which was running nearly 
parallel. Back over the line the planes of 
the Royal Flying Corps were bombing the 
Forest of Houltholst, and the bursting of the 
shrapnel from the German anti-aircraft guns 
pierced the velvet of the sky like stars as we 
went out of Belgium into France. 

Several times shells burst on the road, and 
from the inside of the car came the stifled 
groans of the men as the Ford hit limbs of 
trees and shell-holes. 

Our first stop was a ruined windmill, the 
walls of which were nearly six feet thick. 
Here the dangerous cases were taken off and 
attended to. The last I saw of the corporal 
was after they had cut off his coat at the 
153 



Crumps 

seams and the doctors were taking a piece 
of wire out of his chest. While I was wait- 
ing a chaplin asked me if I would like a cup 
of coffee or some whiskey, realising that it 
would take some time to get the coffee made 
I had some more whiskey. 

I was given two more tags, which this 
time were tied on buttons at the top of my 
jacket. I stayed here about two hours, then 
I was sent to a clearing hospital. It was 
here that I met the first nurses. They were 
two fine, splendid women who were wearing 
the scarlet hoods of the British Regular Army 
nurse. They were both strong and quite 
capable of handling a man, even if he became 
delirious. One of them quickly got me into 
bed. I apologized for my terribly dirty state, 
but I was told that it made no difference; 
they were used to it. To be between clean 
sheets again was wonderful. I felt I wanted 
to go to sleep forever. Suddenly a roar, and 
a terrible explosion. The hospital was be- 
ing bombed; a bomb had dropped within a 
hundred yards of my tent. This was the 

154 



Crumps 

German reprisal for our bombing Houltholst. 
They deliberately bombed a hospital. The 
doctor at this hospital next day looked 
at my hand and said in a nonchalant way, 
"Looks as though you will lose it." At that 
time it did n't strike me as a great loss to lose 
a hand, even if it was my "painting hand." 

The hospital train of the next day was 
crowded and the nurse in charge of my coach 
was named Keene. We tried in the little 
spare time she had to see if we could n't work 
out our genealogy and find out if we were 
even remotely connected, but before we did 
we came to the station of Staples and then 
went to the Duchess of Westminster Hos- 
pital at Latouquet. Here I was operated on. 
A piece of Krupp's steel was taken out of 
my hand and a rubber drainage tube inserted 
instead. The Duchess used to come round 
a great deal and won everybody's affection. 
She used to sit on my bed and talk to me 
about pleasant things. So unlike many 
people who visit hospitals and ask the 
patients silly war questions, such as: "How 

155 



Crumps 

does It feel to be wounded?" or "Which 
hurts more, a bayonet or a shell wound?" 
One exasperated Tommy, when asked if the 
shell hit him, said: "Naw, it crept up behind 
and bit me." 



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